Love and War
by Spruceton Spook
Summary: Ash and Co. paint the town red...wait, make that pink...okay, so it's just Professor Oak's preserve...at the Annual Pallet Paintball Game. AAMR challenge by Llyxius.
1. Part 1

Love and War

_by Spruceton Spook_

****

Part 1**__**

            It was hot – no, not hot, broiling.  The muggy, thick air engulfed him, and the rays of the sun beat down brutally on his forehead, drawing tiny beads of sweat beneath his hairline. He reached up to brush them away and gulped, his mouth lacking the simple quench for thirst it cried out for.  For about the tenth time, he pulled at the collar of his button-down shirt, yanking it back and forth to create a meager supply of ventilation for his sweltering chest. 

            Yes, it certainly was a hot day. But despite the small elements of discomfort it caused, nearly all was eradicated by the presence of what Ash had been anticipating for weeks on end, the one day that had preoccupied his thoughts and temporarily pushed aside his current string of training activities and quests. Just thinking about it gave him a pleasant, wonderful chill of content and excitement.

            Ash breathed deeply and refreshingly, continuing to air himself out from the nasty heat.  He couldn't believe how hot these uniforms could be . . . or how cool they looked at that.  Occasionally, he glanced down or extended his arms, smiling at the loose-fitting garment of camouflage that covered him from head to toe, the familiar blotches of green, brown, and yellow speaking of one thing.

            "Ewww! These _aren't my colors!"_

            Well, that wasn't it.  Ash could disagree at that, but it would be difficult to convince Misty otherwise.  He turned to her, catching her examining herself in the camouflage, a defeated grin edging her lips.  She shook her head, throwing her unbound ginger hair about her shoulders, then looked up at her amused audience.

            Ash smiled languidly.  "What do you want the colors of camouflage to be? Pink and blue?"

            Misty sighed.  "No," she said, looking down at herself again.  "I just think I look funny in this."

            "How is that different from any other time?" Ash asked, shrugging casually, bringing a narrowing glare from the girl.  He smirked, then gestured to her side with a nod of his head. "Is that how you plan on carrying your gun, too?"

            Misty's eyes rose as she threw a look to the gun she held away from her body.  Her fingers wrapped around it in a loose grip, almost as it were dirty in some sorts. She shrugged, as well, letting out a laugh as she brought it to her other hand.

            "It's a gun," she replied.  "I don't like guns."

            "It's a paintball gun," Ash said, rolling his eyes.  "It just shoots out little balls of paint, Misty.  It's not going to kill anyone – or yourself, if that's what you're worried about."  He laughed.

            Misty had to laugh, too, holding the gun better in her hands and scrutinizing it, her eyes cocking.  It was all new to her, Ash knew. She had never been paintballing in her life, and neither had he for that matter, but ever since Pallet Town had begun holding its annual paintball challenge since he was a little boy, paintballing was a familiar concept to him. After years of sitting on the sideline, watching the challengers head off into the woods with their cool camouflage and guns filled with brightly colored balls, he was finally going to be part of it.  Only took him till the age of fourteen, but even now Ash knew his mother wasn't thrilled with the fact that she was sending her son out into target-infested woods filled with trigger-happy kids.

            The day couldn't have been more perfect.  It was hot, but the sun was high and shining and the weather was remarkable.  From where he and Misty stood on the front lawn of Professor Oak's magnificently expansive preserve, Ash's eyes swept over the numerous clumps of people, mostly older kids, some in uniform and guns in hand.  It was just as it had been other years, exciting and filled with expectation.  Nothing but pure bliss ran through his veins.

            "Come on," he said to Misty, drawing her attention away from her gun. He motioned her to follow with a wave of his hand. "Let's go find Brock and Tracey.  They're waiting for me to come back with _you."_

            "I was that long?" Misty asked incredulously.  She dismissed it gruffly.  "Well, maybe I wouldn't have been if I wasn't given a shirt ten times my size.  It took me forever to tuck it in.  And then I had to go put Togepi in a safe place, and walk around aimlessly to find one of _these . . ." she went on, referring to the gun._

            "And yadda yadda yadda," Ash exhaled.  "We still gotta get that gun filled with the balls, so let's go."

            Misty growled humorously and gave him a shove, which Ash simply smiled at. If she was this temperamental about the game now, he couldn't wait to see what she was like out in the woods -- then again, he wondered what it would be like for himself.

            They spotted Brock and Tracey, just where they had been when Ash left to go search for the missing Misty. Already dressed in their own camouflage, their smiling faces were drawn in the direction of a distant tree trunk, splashed with vibrant globs of yellow paint.  Tracey was down on one knee, the viewfinder of the gun pressed to his eye.  As the two approached, the gun made a sharp popping noise, sending Tracey flying back a bit, releasing another ball rapidly soaring to its destruction on the tree.

            Misty stopped short at the pop, her eyes widening at the suddenness of it. She froze and gawked at the paint-splattered tree, then to Ash, who bounded energetically to them.

            "Ooh, let me try," he cooed stimulatedly, holding out his hands like a child wanting a cookie.  His fingers wiggled unstoppably.  Misty smiled and reclined, walking over as well.

            "Well, well, look who it is," Brock grinned, stepping aside as Tracey got up and handed his gun to Ash.  "Got your pre-paintball primping done?" He flashed his derisive teeth.  

            Misty narrowed her eyes at him.  "Whatever.  I already had this conversation.  Show me how to use this thing."

            Brock smiled calmly as Misty thrust the gun into his hands.  He said not a word as he turned and crouched beside the large tin bucket.  Filled nearly to the brim were bright yellow balls, gleaming in the early afternoon sun. Misty watched silently as he loaded her gun, snapped it closed, and handed it back to her.

            "Now," he said, gripping her by the shoulders and forcefully twirling her around to face the tree target, "see that tree?"

            "No, I don't," Misty retorted wearily. "Could you point it out to me, Brock?"

            "Very hilarious, Misty," Brock gibbered, proceeding to yank her arms up so that the gun was at eye-level. He released her, and she stood with the gun propped in front of her face, her eyes studying the weapon fidgetly. She threw him a questionable glance, and he motioned towards the gun with a nod of his head.

            "Put your finger on the trigger and shoot at the tree," he said, his voice dragging.  "It's not hard, Misty."

            "I know," she replied.  "I'm kinda scared to do this."

            Brock shook his head.  "Don't be," he told her.  "Just try it.  It's fun."

            Misty gulped apprehensively and shot a glimpse out at the tree, its beautiful brown bark bludgeoned with dripping yellow paint.  She stared at it for some time, wondering in part how she'd know if she hit it. _If she could hit it, that was. Ash and Tracey had stepped aside, clearing her path.  They stood silently, watching and waiting.  The sudden attention placed upon her and the pressure that accompanied that, Misty shakily brought the gun closer to face, flicking her eye into the target-finder.  The tree bounced before her, brought on by her nervous shivering.  Her finger hesitantly pulled at the trigger, which was a lot tougher than she expected it to be, but after what seemed like forever and all the energy her finger had, the trigger snapped back, creating a startling pop that vibrated through Misty's body in a flash._

            Her eyes shut immediately and her muscles tightened. It was an odd feeling, one that Misty couldn't say she entirely enjoyed.  Her eyelids finally fluttering open, she blinked repeatedly, staring off at the tree.

            Like she expected, she couldn't tell her shot apart from any of the others. When she had shot, it felt almost like her gun had lurched upward, unsteadily wavering from her unstrung manner.  She was still shaking now as she stood, patiently waiting for her heart to calm as she took deep breaths.  

            The silence from her friends was puzzling her.  She looked to them for their reaction and the answer to how she did, clutching her hands around the gun expectantly. The three boys were simply gazing off as she had been, motionless. 

            "Well?" she asked.

            They recoiled slightly, their faces simultaneously wrinkling.

            "Um . . . that was good," Brock said, a trifle of promptness in his voice.

            "Yeah, th-that was real good," Tracey agreed just as swiftly, his head nodding up and down energetically. A wide, anxious smile swept across his face.

            "I mean, for a first try that was excellent!" Brock went on to say, his tone conveying sheer certainty.  He clapped his hands and chuckled precariously.  "You handled the gun so well."

            He sweatdropped, much to Misty's bafflement.  She cocked her head at him.  For some reason, there was something rather odd about his and Tracey's reactions. Their eyes darting around erratically and their smiles were peculiarly large.

            "What are you guys talking about?" Ash suddenly asked, giving them a face.  "That sucked!"

            Brock and Tracey cringed, but Ash seemed oblivious to it.  "She didn't even come close to hitting the tree!"

            Misty's brow immediately furrowed in repulsion, and she growled at the boy.

            "What was that, Ash Ketchum!?" she demanded, fire in her eyes. He reared back and cowered.

             "N-nothing," Ash stammered, shivering. Suddenly, he straightened himself, matching her rigid glare.  "Hey, why are you mad at _me? I'm not the one lying!"_

            Misty was ready to shoot back, but her face softened at the realization of what Ash had said.  She could almost sense her other two friends nervously backing away, their attentions conveniently drawn elsewhere.  Rolling her eyes, Misty decided not to bother with it, as it wasn't even worth it.  Instead, she turned back to Ash, her face lowering disappointedly.

            "Did I really shoot that bad?" she asked glumly.

            Ash was hesitant to answer, but seeing as how she craved his honest answer with her dejected tone, he sighed.  "Well, it's the first time you've shot the gun.  You can't be perfect on your first try."

            Misty nodded.  "I guess so," she said.

            "Try again, Misty," Ash encouraged her.

            Taking a deep breath, Misty raised the gun to her eye again.  She tried to stare through the target and at the tree somewhat determinedly, but once again her restless arms began to tremble.  

            "Don't be so nervous," she suddenly heard Tracey say.  He and Brock had since wandered over again, seeing as the danger of a ravenous Misty was moderately averted.      Misty held her breath at the advice, wondering if that would quit her shaking, but it was no use.  Her friends' eyes continued to wear her down.  She found her eyes shutting again as her finger yanked the stiff trigger.  She opened them immediately afterwards, intently scanning about the area into which she shot, hoping to see some improvement.  

            There was silence again, but it didn't fool Misty this time.  Hunching her shoulders, she let her gun droop at her side miserably.

            "I'm so bad at this," she said, her gaze set solidly on the tree.

            "Hey, don't let it bother you," Brock said, nudging her shoulder.  "You'll do much better as you go along.  It takes practice, you know."

            Misty tried to smile agreeably, but she couldn't help it. Practice was not going to help her. In fact, she didn't even want to shoot the gun again.  Not only was she missing horribly, but she didn't even enjoy doing it. She honestly couldn't see the excitement Ash had over it; how he'd spoken of it ceaselessly for the past few weeks or the look of thrill he got when he shot the gun.  The only pleasure she got out of the estranged sport were the pretty paintballs. Of course, uttering that to the boys wasn't going to make anything better.

            At that point, she wondered why she had turned down Mrs. Ketchum's offer to stay with her instead, enjoy the afternoon without the boys . . .

            "Hey Misty." Ash's voice jerked her out of her little world, drawing her eyes to meet his.  He smiled affably, wetting his lips with a flick of his tongue.  Misty was able to find her smile now.  "Look, don't worry about it.  I'll help you out there."

            Misty perked, cocking her head.  "You would?" she asked, her tone peaking with appreciation.

            "Sure," Ash shrugged.  "I mean, I'm not that great myself--"

            "You certainly aren't," smirked Misty.

            Ash grinned. "Yeah, well.  You want me to show you how to do this or what?"

            Pleased both with her witty remark and Ash's willingness, she beamed and nodded. Not that she had plans on going off on her own anyway, but spending the day with Ash to see him struggle on the battlefield and an invitation to do so was something she couldn't pass up.  And a few pointers on how to shoot the pretty balls wouldn't be bad, either.

            "Thanks Ash," she said.

            "Sure thing," he replied casually, hopping down immediately after to test his shot again.  Misty was amazed to see that he wasn't half bad.  Some of his shots hit the tree dead-on, while others blasted into unknown infinitude to join hers.  But no matter where they went, Ash was not hesitant to pull the trigger. His shots rang out one after the other, barely a moment of rest in between.  He looked like he was having so much fun the way his smile spread eagerly across his face, and Misty sighed gently.

            "Getting in some last minute practice there, Ashy Boy?"

            Ash's last shot burst upwards as his gun lunged skyward, blasting the paintball into the scorching sun. Caught off-guard, he let out a startled yelp, nearly stumbling back to a fall. His head twisted rapidly towards the voice, knowing quite well indeed who it was.  

            Gary smiled down at him as Ash found his feet, hoisting himself up stiffly. 

            "Hi, Gary," he said apathetically, brushing himself off.

            "Hey," he waved.  He, too, was decked out in his camouflage, and he tapped his gun rthymically against his shiny black boots. For a moment, he and Ash stared at each other passively, not uttering a word.  Misty, Brock, and Tracey exchanged brief looks.

            Ash slightly rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath.  This wasn't the first time he had met up with Gary since being home, but fortunately for him, nothing had been hostile between the two.  He wanted to keep it that way, so with a gentle blink of his eyes, he smiled.

            "What's up?" he asked.

            "Nothing much," replied Gary.  "Just came to pick you up, that's all."

            Ash froze.  "What?" he gasped, his voice cracking just a bit.      

            "You're with us," Gary informed, beckoning Ash to follow with a swift throw of his head. He started off, only to halt as he witnessed Ash's face wrinkle with sparse confusion.

            "I am?" Ash asked, surprised.  He quickly glanced over at his friends, who'd frozen stiff themselves, taken by the proclamation. "But, I -- I thought --"

            "What?" Gary shrugged, smiling.  "That you'd be on their team? Heh, Ash, don't you know the customs of this game?"

            "Customs?" Ash responded, shifting his weight to the other leg. He squeezed his gun tightly, giving Gary the most sincere expression of puzzlement, unable to figure out what he was possibly speaking of. 

            "Yeah," he replied, rolling his eyes.  "You're from Pallet Town; you're on the Pallet Town team.  They--" his pointed finger swept along the bystanders, "--are the visitors.  They're on the other team.  You didn't know that?"

            Misty drew back softly, her eyes planted on Ash. She was relieved, somewhat, to see that Ash was clearly shocked by this, that this just wasn't something that escaped his memory.  And even as the news had time to settle in his mind, it appeared as if he wasn't ready to accept it in a swoop.

            Ash swallowed, shaking his head.  "No, I guess not.  I just thought that I'd be with Misty and Brock and--"

            Gary chuckled.  "Well, then that would defeat the whole purpose of the game," he exclaimed. "That's the way it's always been.  The Pallet Towners against the visitors."

            Ash was solid as stone, his eyes falling momentarily to the ground. He lifted them again to Gary, his lips parting slightly.  "Well . . . can't I just be on their team for today? Is it that much of a big deal?"

            Misty, Brock, and Tracey's eyes instantaneously darted to Gary, intently waiting for the response.  They knew Ash wasn't ready to just retreat to the other team and leave them behind. It was a merely a simple desire to have their friend on the team, but nevertheless they hoped Gary would shake the situation off easily.

            That was hardly what they received.

            "Oh, c'mon, Ash," Gary snorted.  "You're kidding, right? You can't just break the tradition of this.  It's not right!"

            "W-well," Ash stuttered, finally finding his rigidity to object, "I was expecting to be with them."

            "He should be able to be on whatever team he wants to be on," Brock suddenly put in, his voice low yet firm.

            Gary shrugged again impassively. He reached up to scratch his head underneath his burdensome dark-green helmet. "It's just the way it's always been." He diverted his attention to Ash again, smiling.  "Don't you wanna support Pallet?  Don't tell me you're going to go against your own town to be with these losers."

            "Hey!" Brock growled under his breath. Misty and Tracey tensed irately.

            Ash, however, seemed to have escaped that comment.  He opened his mouth to disagree that he had no intentions of going against Pallet, but that he also didn't want to abandon his friends, those of whom he'd shared the anticipation of the event with all that week.  At the same time, Gary's ideology and the fact of the matter clung to mind.  If that was the way the game had always been played out, there was no sense in bringing negative -- though harmless -- attention upon himself.  He shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it, shrugging in a defeated, glum manner, giving in.

            "Fine," he muttered inaudibly. "I'll be on the team."

            Misty slumped as the words escaped Ash's lips, feeling her excitement die and her disappointment excel. Biting hard on her bottom lip, she tossed her head irritably, blowing out the few wispy strands of hair that became trapped in the corners of her mouth.  

            Gary's content smile returned, and he reached up to tap his face-guard, which fell over his eyes with a brisk snap. Ash winced from the sound, almost instantaneously regretting his decision.

            "Good," Gary chirped, extending his friendly smirk.  "Game starts in ten minutes, Ash. Be ready to kick ass."

            Spinning around elasticity, Gary sauntered off towards the side from which he come, his gun bouncing off his leg as he walked. Ash's eyes blazed at his rival -- now his teammate -- and blinked hard. What just happened? Ash immediately felt his thrill diminishing, his enthusiasm dulling.  The feeling burned within him furthermore as he turned to his flabbergasted pals, their eyes set on him aghast.

            "Ash?" Tracey exclaimed, shrugging insanely.  "What the hell was that?"

            "You're just gonna leave us now?" Brock gasped, a pained look invading his formally capricious face.

            Misty regained herself, her own outburst pouring from her mouth.  "Ash . . . how can you not be with us? We were going to have fun . . ."

            Ash shut his eyes, trying to rid himself of their perturbed simpers and digging questions.  It was hard enough the situation he'd placed himself into, but to hear his friends' anguished shock was simply worsening it. 

            "I know, I know," Ash rapidly hushed them, Misty in particular.  She sounded particularly hurt, as she had every right to be.  As Ash glanced at her, her eyes lowering and her gun held languidly at her side, he felt his stomach sink in incomparable setback.  For a moment, her almost pleading look altered his set decision, told him to screw the whole thing entirely and go with how he'd planned on originally: a fun-filled, exciting day with his friends, not with Gary, not with a bunch of kids from his town that he hadn't seen in years, and some not at all. The thought of it further made him shudder.

            "I don't want to be on the team," he confirmed, taking a deep breath.  "But Gary's right.  Ya know, I think I do know about that after all, about the team thing.  I just . . . I can't go against it. That's how it's set up."

            Brock pouted disputably. "So what? Like anyone's gonna care?"

            "I live in Pallet Town," Tracey frowned.  "How come _I wasn't invited to be on the team?"_

            "Because it's those native to Pallet," Ash answered, though he knew the true meaning behind Tracey's words.  "I know, it's dumb.  But . . ." He shrugged, not really knowing how to explain what he was feeling . . . or if he wanted to feel it at all. "It's all right." He forced a smile.  "It'll be fun anyway."

            His friends were rendered speechless at that, just staring at him. Slowly, Brock and Tracey apathetically shrugged and turned away, picking up their guns. Misty, however, remained how she was, her eyes glued to Ash despondently.  Ash met her gaze and smiled apprehensively, sweatdropping.

            "Misty," Ash sighed, hunching over.

            "Ash," she met his tone, adding a tad of whining to it, as well.  "You said you were going to help me."

            Ash rubbed the side of his face, groaning gently.  "I know, Misty.  But, you-you'll do fine!  Stick around with Brock, he knows what to do!"

            Glancing briefly at Brock, Misty growled absurdly.  "Yeah, right. I am _not getting paintball advice from someone wearing __that on his head!"_

            She gestured outrageously to their enlivened friend, who had quickly gotten over the dilemma of Ash's by entertaining both himself and Tracey with his extravagant, decorative helmet.  What used to be a normal helmet Brock had covered entirely with long, green grass, which fell over his face and eyes.  Laughing maniacally, he tried to unsuccessfully part the "hair" from his eyesight.

            "Mrs. Ketchum!" he cried, gasping for breath from his giddy laughter, "give me a hand!"

            Delia, who had been making her rounds on the preserve socializing, as she had done all the previous years, doubled over in laughter when she caught sight of Brock.  

            "Oh my goodness!" she giggled, trotting over to him. She tugged playfully at the grass.  "You look adorable!"

            As she went to tear some of the grass from Brock's helmet, Misty just gave Ash another absurd look, shaking her head.  Her face calmed then, her chagrin returning.

            "Ash . . ." she groaned again.  

            Ash didn't know what to do, but as the calls for the teams to assemble sounded off, his head twisted abruptly around.  He didn't have much time to change his decision now, to his dismay.  Hopping around on fidgety toes, all he could do was set his eyes soothingly into Misty's again.

            "I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. But I have to go."

            Misty's head hung and she reluctantly nodded.  "All right," she mumbled.  "I'm gonna suck, though."

            "No you won't," Ash immediately replied, hoisting his gun high in preparation to depart to join his team. Taking a deep breath, he gave a wave to his pals.

            "I'm off guys," he said, giving them a small smile nonetheless.  "Have fun out there.  Hopefully we'll run into each other."

            They sulked sadly but nodded, returning his wave.

            "Ash," Delia said, jumping over to him. "Be careful out there." She immediately went to straighten his helmet, pressing down on it as far as it could go, making Ash cringe. 

            "I will, Mom," he replied, brushing her hands away from his head.

            "Don't shoot anyone in the face or head."

            "Okay."

            "And keep that helmet on, you hear me?" she instructed, her eyes becoming serious to get her point across.  "That's all I want you to do."

            "I will," Ash replied again, backing up bluntly as Delia reached to pull his eye-shield down.

            "Don't take it off for a moment," his mother warned, making sure the strap around his chin was secured.  Ash blushed and tried to pry his head away.

            "Mom! Don't worry, I'll be fine!" he insisted, finally able to break from the clutches of her motherly concern.  He smiled gently, reaching up to jiggle his helmet in assurance, as well.  "I won't get hurt."

            Delia's eyes fell, and she smiled weakly.  "All right then.  Have fun, sweetie."

            "Okay, _Mom," Ash sighed, his eyes rolling as she strolled past him. He facetiously pointed the gun at her and pretended to fire repeatedly. Misty uttered a short chuckle, stifling it kittenishly.  Ash just nodded, sticking his tongue out in farewell, and turned to shuffle his way over to the opposing team that huddled a few yards yonder._

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

_Heys!! My God, this has been some drought for me – what, five months?! That's absurd, I know.  LOL Sorry 'bout that, but school was a bit stressful, and I just wasn't satisfied with anything I wrote. Dang writer's slump! -_- And **then** ff.net had to break down . . . yeesh. But I'm back, and with a new challenge fic from Llyxius! Yeah, she just **had** to go and challenge me, that sneaky girl! ~_^ Hope she doesn't kill me for butchering her awesome story! ^^;;; _

_Heehee, well, I  hope you're enjoying it so far! It'll get incredibly cute and fluffy later on, but for now I must concentrate on torturing my little Ashy Boy. ^__^ Hehe, love him so much . . ._

_Anyhoo, please leave a review – I appreciate hearing from you guys so much! *^__^*_

_Part 2 next week! Can Ash survive being on the Pallet Town team . . . ? o.O  :P_


	2. Part 2

Love and War

_by Spruceton Spook_

Part 2

            Almost instantly, Ash could feel his stomach tightening as he approached the team he had begrudgingly made himself a part of.  It consisted mostly of boys, some of whom Ash barely recognized. And then there was Gary, standing proudly in the center, exchanging brief words with his teammates. Ash's walking slowed as the closer he came to them, almost as if he wanted to avoid approaching them.  The constant urges of turning around and running back to his team nagged him, but he fought them.  He had no choice now.

            When he finally did reach them, he practically screeched to halt.  Yes, he did indeed know some of these people, but he was hardly excited with getting to see them again.  Some he even recognized from his school days, which felt like a million years ago, but it didn't matter one way or another to him if they even spoke a word to each other.  These were his friends once.  He had friends now, but they were on the other side.  Where Ash wished he was . . .

            "Hey Ash!" Gary called to him upon noticing him. Most of the eyes of the group shot to him, causing him to hold back slightly.  He managed a nervous grin.  "Just in time!  Did you get your paintballs?"

            Eyes widening, Ash's head lowered to his gun.  "Y-yeah, but they're yellow balls," he replied unemotionally.

            Some of the boys snickered, that including Gary.  "Well, that would be pretty dumb, wouldn't it?  Going out into the field and shooting the visitors with their own balls!"

            "I guess," Ash replied.  _Get  me outta__ here . . ._

_            He startled as Gary grabbed the gun suddenly from his hands, opening the cartridge and dumping the horde of yellow balls to the ground. Ash sadly watched the balls fall to the ground and scatter, realizing what a waste it was.  Once paintballs hit the ground, they were no longer used.  Fear of breakage and outside materials that could harm the gun prevented that._

            Gary didn't seem to care though, carelessly shaking every last ball out and filling the gun up with new pink paintballs. A _lovely choice, Ash noted adversely._

            "Here ya go," Gary said, snapping the gun shut and handing it back to Ash.  He accepted it listlessly. 

            Dusting his hands off in conclusion, Gary kicked away the yellow paintballs and became attentive once again to the surrounding activities. Ash just stood where he was, almost praying for the call of battle to sound.  The discomfort of being with a bunch of almost-strangers -- and Gary no less -- made his heart pound more and more apprehensively as the minutes passed. At least in the game, he'd be able to go out on his own and enjoy himself.

            Suddenly, Ash perked as the conception arose in him.  He was waiting for this game for the longest time, so why was he going to let this one thing bother him? Once he was out there, who cared whose team he was on or who was depending on him? He was going to go out there and play his hardest and have as much fun as he could.  And as for Misty, Brock, and Tracey . . . maybe shooting his friends down with pink balls wouldn't be so bad after all . . .

            _Heheh, Ash thought devilishly to himself, trying to hold back the grin to his personal thought.  __You guys are going to get it._

            "C'mon, let's go!" Gary's voice interrupted Ash's thoughts, wrenching him back into the picture again.  His team began to walk, making their way to the patch of small woodland behind Professor Oak's vast fields.  Ash found a position towards the end of the line, involuntarily twisting his head to look off at the visiting team.  Sure enough, they were off to the other side of the forest, Misty, Brock, and Tracey huddled together almost like they had they had a team of their own.  Ash's spirits fell as he saw this, but he quickly turned away and shook himself of it.

            _You're gonna have fun, he told himself.  __Forget about the teams.  Have fun!_

_            "Hey Ash!"_

            _Oh great . . .  _

Now what did _he want?  Ash lifted his head from watching his feet walk to see Gary walking towards him, smiling all the more.  Ash wondered what was making him so damn happy . . ._

"You all ready for this?" he asked, positioning himself alongside Ash as they continued on their way.

Ash decided to smile and go along with the happiness of the moment, rather than what he wished he had.  After all, it could be worse.  At least Gary wasn't "himself" today, which Ash had feared, though Gary's sudden buddy-buddy routine appeared somewhat odd.  Couldn't he find someone else on the team to converse with and leave him be to wallow on his own?

"Sure I am," Ash replied happily instead, his confidence rising. "I've been waiting to do this for years."

"Oh, that's right," Gary responded, his voice peaking with recollection.  "This is your first time paintballing, ain't it? Your ma finally letting ya go out?"

"Uh, yeah," Ash replied, turning away from that remark.  Like that needed to be considered, but no harm. 

"It's a lot of fun," Gary continued.  "Last year, especially.  That was some day!  Our team won, much like it does every year."

Ash nodded, wiping some more sticky sweat off his brow.  "Well, we should win this year, too, right?"

Gary shrugged, his eyes shutting with blissful assurance. "Sure! With the looks of the other team, doesn't look like they have a prayer."

Ash's muscles tightened, and he chose not to respond to that.  He didn't know why, though, as the words touched him resentfully.  The woods were looming now, and Ash took in the sights airily.  As the team entered into the forest, Ash's eagerness rose again.  Not just for the purpose of the game, but that Gary would leave him and go off to do his own business.  Ash was prepared to do this on his own, to make sure he'd get the good time he expected.

Just as he was about to embark out on his own, Gary's voice halted him again. "Where are you going?"

Ash turned to him confusingly.  "What do you mean? I'm going out to paintball."

Gary threw his hand down, giving him a face.  "Nah, stick with me. I'll show you what a real paintballer looks like." 

"Come with you?" Ash repeated, a hint of disbelief brewing in his tone. His voice cracked again, and Ash instantly coughed to bolster it.

Gary shrugged. "Sure.  Once I show ya how to really play, we'll clean up in no time."

_What? Ash though disgustingly.  As if things couldn't get any worse, he didn't know why he just didn't bolt there and then.  But Gary continued to summon him with his glimmering eyes, signaling him to follow with continuous waves of his hand.  As he did, he started out into the woods deeper, his body slightly crouched as he entered the battle field._

In that moment, something took hold of Ash. The sight of Gary making his way into Professor Oak's green forest and the feeling of adventure that complemented it stirred a familiar sentiment within him.  Suddenly, he didn't see it as the present situation it was; he was experiencing a scene from his childhood all over again, a scene that stimulated his yearn for fun and excitement. The recollection nagged at him, slowly bringing a small look of confusion to his face as he found himself following Gary . . . just as he had done in the blissfully innocent times before even preparing to be a Pokémon trainer.

There was just something pulling at him from inside, wanting him to follow. It was like the feeling that he'd had a young kid, the same feeling that had made following the boy older than him by nearly two years exciting. Where there was Gary, there was mischief and adventure . . . where there was adventure, there was fun. Ash felt himself being lured to Gary like a magnet, his sense of freedom detained by his inner desire for fun brought on by reminisce. He instinctively lagged behind, much as he always had, throwing his head about to spot the other players.  Most, shockingly, had vanished from sight already, and Ash centered his attention on Gary again.  He was not even looking back at him, and Ash still wondered why he was following at all. 

Finally, Gary looked back, the sunlight gleaming from his eye-shield into Ash's eyes.  "Know what to do?"

Ash squinted, halting along with Gary.  "Huh?"

Gary smirked.  "The game.  Know what to do?"

"Sure," Ash replied sluggishly.  "Hide in the woods and shoot at the other team."

"Oh boy," groaned Gary, sounding disconcerted.  His head fell into his hands.  "Ash, it's not that simple.  You have to go out there and plan a strategy!  You go out thinking like that, and you'll be down in no time!"

Ash blinked. "Gee, I didn't know there was so much to it.  I thought you just had fun shooting around at people."

Gary looked shocked.  "Go out and have fun?" he laughed in incredulity. 

_So much for reliving childhood . . ._

"Obviously, you don't know the seriousness behind this event, Ash!"

_Guess I don't, Ash thought despairingly, wondering again why he didn't retreat on his own.  He felt stuck now, much as he had the whole afternoon, and slumped.  If Gary didn't want to have fun, what was he getting himself into now? However, getting shot out immediately didn't sound too appealing either.  He tilted his head._

"C'mon," Gary yawned, pulling his way through some shrubbery.  Blinking again, Ash followed, nearly tripping through the shrubs.  

No words were spoken between the two for quite a few minutes.  Ash was close behind Gary, staring at his back as they trudged their way through the woods. It was all memorable to him, recalling a mish-mosh of scenes of he and Gary walking through these same woods as younger kids.  Those had been good times, times that Ash wished he could have again, and his mind drifted in recollection again.  It was all coming back to him, and he smiled.

"Keep your eyes peeled," Gary said, wrenching Ash from his memories.  Unfortunately, there was another aspect of his wonderful reminiscing—Gary's  orders. He was always the one in charge, after all.  Ash didn't understand why this was, but the sharp, yet ultimately harmless order took hold of him like always.

"Sure," he said, shaking his head roughly. He scowled.  "I mean . . ."

"What?"

Swallowing, Ash decided to do away with it.  "Nothing," he said softly, glancing down at his feet. Why wasn't he off on his own? Thoughts of stalking about the woods and prowling down his friends sounded mighty enticing, so why was he here listening to and following Gary?  Looking up and out into the woods, Ash realized how very easy it would be to just stop following Gary, who wasn't even looking behind him anyway, and venture out on his own, enjoy the game as he had so rightfully planned.

Thinking about having this whole game in the control of Gary, supposedly getting advice on how to win a game he saw as fun and Gary saw as just another highly important challenge in life, and feeling miserable and trapped at the same time struck a resentful chord within Ash. To him, this day was going to be an adventure – a fun adventure – and it appeared now as it that weren't so. 

Lifting his head rigidly, Ash took a deep breath.  He was going to get out of there, but sneakily drifting away from Gary was not going to be the way to take. "Gary--" he began.

Gary suddenly balked in front of him, inducing Ash to reel back.  Gary's hand shot out, smacking Ash harshly in the stomach.  

"Get down!" Gary growled to the coughing Ash, dropping to the ground with a whoosh.  Reaching out, Gary grabbed Ash's shirt as he did, yanking the boy down viciously beside him.

"Wh-what?" Ash asked, his face skewed in disorientation.  Gary's sudden action left his mind spinning momentarily, and he tried to focus to grasp his bearings.

Gary glanced at him briefly, then narrowed his eyes determinedly through the bush they had hid behind. A crafty grin pulled at his lips.  "Victim dead ahead."

"Huh?" Ash said, gazing through the bush. Sure enough, he caught sight of a helpless player pulling himself though the bramble. His old teammate, Ash noted, although he had no clue as to whom he was.  He remembered noticing him getting ready near him earlier that day.  Now, the teen was walking softly, almost tip-toeing barely a hundred yards from them, his head twisting in all directions, completely oblivious to the fact that his enemies were studying his every step.

Gary chuckled, baring his teeth competitively.  Lifting his gun to his head, he licked his lips. "This is going to be good," he whispered.

Ash shifted his weight.  "You're gonna shoot?" he asked.

"Of course," Gary replied, not looking at him.  His eyes were following the boy hungrily.  "What do you think I'm gonna do, ask him out?"

"No," Ash responded.  He didn't actually know why he had asked that question.  He was still unused to hunting down his old team, but he shook his head of it.  Ash prepared himself as well, grasping his gun tightly and getting ready to attack.  He wasn't aware of what Gary was planning, but the way his face bundled strenuously at their victim, Ash wasn't going to ask for the plan.  He simply got ready to shoot, feeling the excitement finally catch up to him.  This was going to be fun . . .

_Pop.  The sound caused Ash to flinch slightly and Gary to start back, but both the boys' eyes were glued to the individual ahead.  Neither could see the careening paintball as it tore through the air, but its collision posed no doubt. In the matter of a split second, the defenseless, unaware boy jerked backwards and fell to the ground after stumbling round a bit._

"Yes!" Gary cried victoriously, hopping to his feet and raising his gun in jubilant pride. 

Ash remained on the ground, his gaze blaring at the victim rolling around in the brush just yonder, finally finding his feet and staggering around unsteadily after doing so. Ash cocked his head interestedly as he watched the boy bring his hand to his head, dazed.  It was lowered, and immediately Ash caught sight of the big blotch of pink splashed on the helmet, squarely in the area above his ear.

"Got you! You're out!" Gary snorted with a wide grin, hoisting his pointed thumb back in the direction of the camp.  The boy bent down slightly and pulled off his helmet, almost arduously and slowly.  He responded none to Gary's incessant gloating, just stared down at the helmet, stunned by the suddenness of the irreversible blow.

Ash couldn't believe what he was seeing.  Not only did he feel a tad of compassion for the poor boy he'd once called his teammate, but something didn't seem right in the scene that played before his eyes.  It wasn't right.  Ash knew that immediately.  The splatter of pink on the helmet was something he shouldn't have seen, something that was not supposed to be. He kept silent of this as Gary continued to wear down the victim with his flashing smile, watching him shuffle his way from the bramble he had been residing and head back down towards the camp.  Ash's brow furrowed compassionately, almost feeling the pain and disappointment of being out so soon in the game.  

"Haha!" Gary laughed heartily as he watched his victim leave the course, clapping his hands triumphantly.  Glancing down at Ash, he cheered.  "How bout _that? Ever see something so perfect? That's how you do it! That was __the perfect shot!"_

Ash opened his mouth to reply, knowing exactly what he was going to say.  But he just halted as Gary jumped in place, thrusting his gun up and down into the air.  

_What are you doing? Ash thought rather despicably, thus encouraging the words from his mouth. "Gary," he said, a short, incredulous chuckle escaping his lips.  He shrugged briefly, his eyes wandering in shock._

Gary took deep breaths of happiness from his victory, squatting down beside Ash with just the same attitude.  "What?" he asked, not waiting for Ash to continue. "Heh, wasn't that just awesome? Can I shoot or what?"

_You sure can, Ash thought.  __For someone aiming for the head.  _

"Um, yeah," Ash answered, the dilemma of what had just occurred nagging in his mind.  "It's just that . . ."

"What?" Gary smiled.  His high was hardly diminishing.

Ash didn't understand how he could even be that happy or proud.  What he had just done, after all, was completely against the rules, altogether unacceptable in the game itself.  It was not just his mother's demand that rang in his head, but the general standard that had been established before each and every game. Ash knew not to shoot in the head -- it was practically common sense that that wouldn't be a wise choice. And he thought everyone understood that and abided by it . . . nothing was more dangerous than to shoot at someone unexpectedly in the head, helmet or no helmet.

As Ash stared into Gary's radiant face, he was at a loss for words.  Then again, who was he to say anything? Maybe it was just an accident, a faulty shot that had somehow found its target unintentionally, though successfully.  Whether it was wrong or not, a hit to the head was indeed a hit, and the boy was out of the game. But it was Gary's smile that upset Ash, wondering if he was just as happy with being aware of what he had done.

"Nothing," Ash shook his head after a moment, deciding to throw the nonsensical account away.  He put on a smile.  "Good job."

"Thanks, Ash," Gary nodded, tossing his head about and scanning the area.  He was silent for a second.  "We should really leave this area.  If that kid found any of his team, they'll be sure to hunt us out."

"Okay," Ash agreed, following Gary as they stooped through the bushes and out into a clearing.  They were cautious of how they walked and exposed themselves, eyeing for any suspicious moving and rustling.  Ash found it exciting, the chill of danger and suspense cascading through his body. His stomach fluttered from the thrill, and he clutched his gun tightly in response.

The last appalling shot nearly washed itself of Ash's mind as they wandered, as he was brought into an entirely new perspective. The heat engulfed them all around, and occasional tree clearings sent the broiling sun down upon their backs.  Ash could feel his feet overheating within his tightly-bound boots, basking in the thought of how wonderful it would feel later to take them off.  But that was far from now -- or so he hoped. 

It was almost scary walking through those woods, causing Ash to figure that this was how an escaped fugitive felt.  It wasn't much different, actually -- here he was sneaking around with a gun in his hand, enemies lurking in unknown places, all wanting a piece of him.  He began to tremble and stayed low, literally crawling now as he and Gary inched their way into a patch of bushes.  Despite the pressure, however, Ash had a huge smile on his face. 

Suddenly, Ash flinched as a flash of movement stirred in the corner of his eye.  He was surprised at how much his heart jumped, and a new rush of adrenaline charged through his veins.

"I see someone!" he squeaked excitedly, and Gary halted immediately.

"Where?" he replied, ducking his head much further down than he needed to.  He joined Ash in peering through the brush.

"Right ahead," Ash said, not making any other movement to direct where he was staring. He didn't need to though; Gary saw perfectly that there was someone prowling about fifty yards ahead.  He didn't quite see who it was yet, and he squinted attentively, scrutinizing as much as he could manage.  For a moment, he wasn't even sure if it was someone of the opposite team.

"He's hiding pretty good," Gary commented.

"Umm-hmmm," Ash responded indifferently, more concentrated on making out who it was rather than discuss it with Gary.  The individual was not moving much, and was keeping himself concealed excellently, as Gary had noted. If only he would raise his head a little more, Ash noticed, then . . . then he would know for sure.

But before his simple wish was granted, Ash didn't even need it anymore.  His eyes focused, and a small grin came to his lips.  That stance . . . he knew that stance. He'd seen it before; heck, it was so familiar that he was dumbfounded that he hadn't recognized it earlier.  He was so busy registering in his mind that it was Tracey ahead of them that he didn't even need the confirmation he got when Tracey did in fact lift his head just that little bit.  His black hair, hence grown a bit longer, jutted from where the helmet released its press on it.

_Alright, Ash thought with a burst of energy, beaming.  He positioned his gun and licked his lips competitively._

"And another helpless victim going down," Gary laughed under his breath, preparing for the attack as well.  Ash smiled.

"It's Tracey," he informed in a whisper, inducing Gary's attention to swing to him momentarily.  He said nothing, though, as Ash continued.  "I'm gonna get him!"

Gary stared at him for a second, watching Ash shift his weight around and stick his gun in the direction of Tracey.  He looked over to see that Tracey was still stirring in the bushes, unaware that his two enemies were on to his every move. As his eyes darted from the incognizant prey to the grinning, cunningly concentrated predator, he flinched.  His fingers itching around the trigger of his paintball gun, Gary leapt to his feet, pausing for only a short moment to clearly align his gun with a startled and taken Tracey and fire.

"Huh!? What?" Ash exclaimed in surprise, unintentionally firing his gun in response to Gary's sudden vault.  His shot, however, was anything but on target, blasting off in some wayward direction and into the wilderness.  The gun nearly fell from Ash's trembling hands, but he grabbed it fidgety.

"Alright!" Gary shouted, watching as a stunned Tracey shook himself of the surprise attack, righting himself.

Ash, in the meantime, rose to his feet without hesitation, curious to see what had happened just as much as he was peeved of the rude interruption of his shot.  He couldn't decide what to do first -- look to see if Tracey had hopefully escaped Gary's completely uncalled-for shot or do what inclined him most: shove Gary to the ground for intruding on the most perfect opportunity he had to take one of his friends out.  

"Hey!" the disgruntled tone of Tracey uproared, and Ash's decision was made.  His eyes widened in stupefaction as he witnessed Tracey stumble to his feet, much as the other teen had done just moments ago, his helmet splattered with that very familiar blob of hot-pink paint.  The only difference, however, was Tracey's look of doubtless agitation.

"What's the big idea?" Tracey went on to exclaim angrily, reaching up to smear some of the pink paint with his hand as a confirmation.  He glared at Gary.  "What do you think you're doing?"

Ash was speechless as he gawked at what was playing out before him.  Tracey noticed him, but he was more concerned with Gary, who was calmly shrugging to his infuriated interrogation.

"What do you mean what am I doing?" Gary asked.  "I'm playing the game, and I got you. You're out."

Tracey wasn't going to accept that for one moment.  "You shot me in the_ head!" he spat, his face flushing both from the shock and daze he was experiencing from the hit and his ire._

Gary laughed.  It was a not a harmful laugh nor was in spiteful . . . just a simple chuckle from what he saw as nothing important.  "So what?" he said.  "I shot you."

"You're not supposed to shoot someone in the head!" Tracey scowled, lifting his eye-shield up and pulling himself from the shrubs.  He made his way over to them, shaking his head.  

"It doesn't matter!" replied Gary.  "You're out.  It doesn't matter where I hit you."

Ash still stood silently, his eyes flipping back and forth as the hostile words were exchanged.  Tracey ducked his head and slipped his helmet off as he walked, shaking his sweaty hair free.  Glancing down with one overwrought look at his helmet, he huffed.

Gary wasn't so sure of what Tracey was doing. He backed up slowly. "Oh c'mon, Trace. What's the problem?"

Tracey rolled his eyes.  "There's a _big problem," he replied. "Dude, you almost killed me!"_

Ash couldn't help the small smile that popped to his mouth.  His and Tracey's eyes met each other, and Ash gave him a quick nod and wearied look of _tell-me-about-it. Licking his lips, Tracey tilted his head._

"Tracey," Gary sighed, "I didn't kill you.  Stop being a sore loser."

"I'm not being a sore loser," Tracey grumbled, straightening himself. "I don't care whether you got me or not, just . . . don't shoot at my head, okay?" Ash could tell there was repose in Tracey's tone; he didn't want to start anything. That was good, but Ash was also glad to see that someone was telling Gary what he was doing wrong. All the more easier for Ash to put in his two cents and fortify the obvious argument.

"All right, I'm sorry, okay?" Gary shrugged in defense. "What else can I say?"

Tracey was silent for a moment, throwing a glance down at his helmet, which he was tapping softly against his leg.  Reaching up with the heavy thing in his hand, he wiped his brow.  

"You don't have to say anything else," he said calmly.  He shrugged with his eyes. "It's okay."

Ash watched him turn away, his shoulders sagging just a bit.  "Bye Tracey," he said quietly.

Tracey looked over and smiled, giving Ash a thumbs-up.  "Good luck, Ash. Don't get yourself shot out.  Misty an' Brock are tracking ya down."

"Heh, okay," Ash smiled slightly. At least Misty and Brock were still in! His eyes followed Tracey as he walked off, plopping his helmet back onto his head for the trip back to camp.

There was a short quietness as Ash and Gary watched Tracey off, broken by a deep, long sigh emerging deep from Gary's lungs.

"We're good," he grinned superciliously, his eyebrows rising excitedly.

Ash cocked his eye at him. _We? he thought incredulously. There was no 'we' in what was going on here.  He waited for Gary to return the odd gaze before speaking._

"What are you doing, Gary?" he asked, his voice silent and accusing.  Gary drew back, smiling nervously.

"What?"

Ash took a short breath. "Why're you shooting people in the head?"

Gary groaned agitatedly, his head dumping into his hands with one swift drop.  His hands pressed up against the eye-shield, leaving damp imprints as he lifted them off. 

"What _is the big deal about that?" he exclaimed.  The prints vanished quickly in the heat, exposing clearly his querying, yet humored, brown eyes. He chuckled.  "Why are you people getting so worked up about this?"_

So he wasn't doing it accidently.  Ash narrowed his eyes. "Because maybe it's _wrong?" he suggested.  "You know, at first I thought it was accident what you did to that other kid, but now that you practically took off Tracey's head, it obviously isn't! Why are you doin' that?"_

Ash had to breathe deeply as he mouthed off his interrogation, finding his petulance grow as Gary's smile widened even more.

"Ash, you gotta calm down," said Gary, reaching out to facetiously retain his steaming friend.  "Look, I'm not out to hurt anybody. I'm just having fun!"

"But you _could hurt someone!" Ash objected, his voice cracking.  _

"Well, what do you think the helmets and eye-shields are for?" Gary asked, his tone still collected and laid back.  "For decoration?"

_No, Ash retorted to himself, __to keep people from losing their faces from shots like yours.  "They're there for protection. But that doesn't mean that you can shoot at people's heads on a whim!"_

He continued to glare at Gary, who simply stared back at him impassively.  Suddenly, to Ash's shock, he began to laugh, gritting his teeth visibly to hold in his jaunty chortling.

"Ash, you're funny," he said between the giggles, slapping Ash's helmet playfully.  Ash retreated from the gesture, be it friendly or not.  He didn't see anything funny with the matter, and in that moment, he didn't even know if he wanted to be there anymore.

"It's not funny," Ash mumbled in response, turning away from Gary.  "You might hurt someone."  He quieted after that, his eyes roaming the area to make sure that no one had snuck up while they were talking. He didn't know if he'd be able to contain his anger if he'd gotten shot out after trying to right wrongs.

"I'm not gonna hurt anyone," Gary replied quickly, ending his last word sharply.  That meant the discussion was over. "You should just be happy that we're doing so great! You're letting these dumb things ruin the fun.  Our team's probably winning!"

Ash didn't even look at him as he said that—his resentment was steadily rising . . .  too much.  

_"How can I have fun if you won't even let me shoot?" he mumbled coldly, much so that Gary couldn't even make it out._

"Hmm?" he asked.

Ash shook his head.  "Nothing," he said, running his finger dispiritedly up and down the barrel of his paintball gun.  If only he could use it for something meaningful, get into the game and truly be a part of it.  Shooting Tracey out would have been a lot of fun, the kind of fun he'd be expecting, but he wasn't even given the opportunity.  Was that how it was going to be the whole day? Would he ever get a legitimate shot out?

Not with Gary around he wouldn't. Ash could still tell by the way his voice was unwavering and proud that the shadows of the trees weren't the only shadows hanging over him.  Gary would have been fun to be around, Ash believed.  After all, Ash had had fun with him for years.  But when competition seeped from Gary Oak's pores, there was no question that Ash was the underling.  There was no stopping Gary from enjoying the game as most all the other kids were doing, laughing and stomping through the brush.  Ash would've loved that doing that with him.  Deep down, he wanted to have fun with Gary again.  It was a shame Gary's hunger to win subdued his desire to have a good time.

_But that's not going to be me, Ash finally decided determinedly, narrowing his eyes at nothing in particular and rising to his feet. _

"Where ya going?" Gary asked, giving him a look.

Ash looked down at him for a moment before he lied, "Gonna stake out the area."

"Oh." Gary's eyes fell. "Okay."

Ash crouched as he walked, his back screaming with pain. It wasn't a comfortable position for him, but Ash wanted to get away from Gary as fast as possible and not get shot out in the meantime.  He didn't mind the ache for the short time that he had it.  

_Have fun Gary, Ash thought sincerely.  He did want Gary to have fun . . . but he wanted to have __more fun. __See ya when my__ team kicks your butt!_

He grinned mischievously.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Wow, thanks for all the wonderful reviews, guys! I'm glad you like my little tale so far.   I've never been paintballing, but I was present for one game that my cousin held in Spruceton a few years back.  But just because I didn't go out didn't mean I wasn't able to pick up a few rules and a feel for the game. ^__^  I just watched other people returned covered in paint. :P Basically all that happens in this fic is based on what happens in Spruceton . . . but then again, what else do you expect from me? Pallet Town . . . Spruceton . . . what's the difference? LOL  Put in a little bit o' Spruceton and a whole lotta AAML and Ash-torture sounds like a good fic to me. Heehee!

_Enjoy everyone, and please leave a review!  Even if it means praising Llyxius for her lovely idea—or yelling at her for making the mistake of giving it to me. ^O^ Hehe!_


	3. Part 3

Love and War

By Spruceton Spook 

Part 3 

Ash couldn't believe how much better he felt being on his own.  Suddenly, it seemed like he was let loose into the wilderness, his restraints finally snapped. His body went slack, the surroundings became more open, and the heat . . . well, that was just as bad as it was before. But Ash didn't care.  He was free now—free of Gary's orders, free to play the game the way he chose, free to . . . find his friends.

Almost immediately, Ash got the urge to find Misty and Brock.  He was glad they were still in the game.  It would have sucked to play out the whole thing without seeing his pals once, whether it be just to wave a secretive hello or to take them out with a pink paintball.  Ash smirked, thinking in his mind what a joy that would be.  Unless, of course, they found him first, but even then Ash wouldn't mind. At that point, after the ordeal with his supposed team and reluctantly spending most of the first half of it with Gary no less, Ash just wanted to do something with Misty and Brock, make the game memorable.

But . . . nothing would've been better than to be _with them.  Ash halted where he was, and perched himself behind a protective patch of bushes.  He was barely two hundred feet from where he'd left Gary, still somewhat behind his team's lines.  They had advanced towards the other team's side, but he was still in his territory.  He didn't want to be there at all, he thought dispiritedly.  But it was no use now. No matter how much he was beginning to detest the team he was placed on, he could do nothing about it.  His body and mind ached for him to sneak over to the other side, find his friends, and play with them without anyone noticing . . . or __caring for that matter._

Unfortunately, a gun filled with pink paintballs wasn't going to get him very far.

Ash sulked, dropping down into a sitting position. Taking a deep breath of the warm air, he sighed, glancing down at his gun.  How come this wasn't working out the way he'd wanted it to? He should have been happy by now, completely swept into delirious thrill.  Instead, here he was, brooding behind a bush with no direction to go in, everything he wanted blockaded with something else one way or another.  

_Maybe I should just find Brock and Misty and throw myself in front of them, Ash pouted to himself, prompting him to laugh right after.  Probably wasn't such a bad idea. He didn't feel like doing anything otherwise.  At least there was a nice barbecue to look forward to back at Professor Oak's yard._

_Wait, what am I saying? Ash thought disgustingly. __Damn it, this is my day! This is so stupid!_

And it was. This had been the day Ash had been wild about for the last few weeks, and now he found he wasn't even beginning to care anymore.  This wasn't what he wanted at all, and he scowled, jumping to the balls of his feet and grasping the gun in his hand.  

_I'm gonna go out there and have fun, he convinced himself all of a sudden, putting on a determined face. __What I should have been doing from the start!_

Only Ash didn't know how he was going to have fun.  Looking down at his gun and thinking of the pink balls contained within it, Ash knew there was only one way he could have fun: playing for the Pallet team.  He sighed once again.

_Oh well . . . I get to shoot, at least._

Lifting himself up slightly, Ash prepared to depart to another area of the woods. If he could find a makeshift fort of the other team, where he was sure many of the players were probably harboring if one existed, he could start a fun ambush and completely take out a load of opponents.  He smiled, making that his plan.  In fact, Misty would probably be there. Poor Misty, who sadly was so despaired at not being able to shoot and worry-filled of getting shot herself that she decided to stay there while the others went out.  It was enough to make Ash snicker harmlessly, definitely worth a shot.

Glancing over his shoulder one more time to check where Gary was, Ash didn't see him, and assumed he was either hidden from sight or he had left on his own.  Ash shrugged, moving forward out of the bushes and out into the open cautiously. There were plenty of places to hide, and as much as that made him feel confident, it also made him aware of how any one of his opponents could be hiding, as well.  A chill ran through him, but instead of making him somewhat nervous and frightened of his vulnerability, Ash smiled.  The fun he was supposed to be having was finally starting to kick in.

_Now then, Ash thought deviously, __where could you guys be?_

That was supposed to be a stray question of some sorts, just a random thought to himself.  He didn't expect it to be answered so quickly, but right after the thought had passed through his mind, there it was. The glimpse of red caught his eye like a flash, and his jaw dropped in incredulously amused surprise. 

"Nah," he muttered under his breath, a grin spreading across his face. "Can't be!"

At that moment, the redness moved, exposing more of itself between a gap in the bushes from which it was shielded. It was a red shoe—a red sneaker to be exact—and Ash didn't have a single doubt in his mind who it belonged to. The grin brightened into a crafty beam, Ash chuckled, got on his hands and knees and crept forth.  

He couldn't believe that he had found Misty so rapidly. He wouldn't have ever imagined she would get this far into mid-territory, causing him to wonder if he himself had wandered farther than he had believed.  Then again, because of her unconfident shot, perhaps traveling through the woods inconspicuously—and luckily, in Misty's case—was the only choice she had. So much for the fort idea.

It wasn't important, though.  Quietly he snuck up on her, carefully making a large loop as to come around behind her.  He didn't exactly know what he intended to do when he met up with her or why he was even sneaking up on her at all—he just found himself doing it. At this point, all he wanted to do was say hi.  He wanted to make eye contact, smile, and say that he had at least seen Misty during the game.  He didn't want to shoot her, nor did he want her to shoot him. Ash could just picture that of all things occurring. As funny as that probably would be, he shook his head, realizing how very lame it would be, also.  

            He was now directly behind her, catching a clear view of her.  She was sitting down, her legs spread out to the side of her, her gun propped up stiffly. Trapped in the huge, baggy shirt she was given, it was hard to think that she could be recognized easily, but Ash knew. He giggled, feeling bad for her to be weighed down in such a large shirt in such muggy weather. She was positively swimming in the garment.  

            Her attire wasn't the only thing Ash had to laugh about as he settled to spy on her. The way she was sitting, it was easy to tell she was anything but comfortable. She was scared stiff. Well, maybe not scared, just . . . preoccupied.  She was not relaxing and taking in the sights airily; her fear and nervousness was just making her awareness stronger. She had the right stuff to be good defensively, that was for sure, but the obviousness of her weakness told Ash that the littlest thing would certainly send her into frenzy. 

            Which, of course, made the situation all the more interesting . . .

            Feeling a jolt of rascality fly through his blood, Ash ground his teeth slyly and began to slink through the long grasses in her direction.  He was being as silent as he possibly could, praying that she wouldn't hear him.  He felt sneaky doing this, but finally he was having some fun, and it edged him on.  He wanted none other than to successfully prey on her and see how far he could get, hopefully reaching her and being able to get in a word or two.  But, on the other hand, if this was going to end against that desire, he at least wanted to get a good hearty scream from her.  She could shoot and fire all she wanted, but as long as it was fun, Ash didn't mind.  

            _Misty, Misty, I'm coming to get you . . . Ash cooed to her in his mind, sticking out his tongue friskily as he got closer and closer to her.  God, this was great.  She was so oblivious, and Ash was enthralled. This is exactly what he wanted the game to be all about. He felt shivers run through him as the distance between them shortened.  He couldn't think of someone to do this to that would be any funnier. He was going to without a doubt make her have a heart attack, and he did all in his power to stifle the laughter that begged to escape his lungs. _

            He held his breath as he came within inches of her, unable to believe that she still had noticed him yet.  Freezing for a second or two, Ash took the time to stare at the totally unaware girl before him.  His face was flushed, as he wanted so badly to laugh. Biting down on his lip, his grin fought against the aspiration, so irremovable his jaw ached.  Positioning his hand right aside her head for a moment, he then leapt on her, clasping his hand over her mouth in one swift, sweeping motion.

            Misty immediately lurched from the sneak attack, rearing backward into Ash. He finally let his laughter fly as she screamed and hollered, only coming out as intense moans from the muzzle of Ash's hand.  Bucking and twitching violently, Ash kept a hold on her, giving her a toothy smile as her eyes, wide and white with alarm, finally flicked in his direction.

            "Hey, hey, it's just me, Misty! It's just me!" he chuckled insanely.  Even though Misty was looking at him, she continued to flinch in his grip, still shocked, still jumpy. Her screams had apparently died down to strong whimpers as she fought to catch her breath, which shot from her nose coarsely, hot on Ash's hand. 

            Ash just proceeded to smile, an idea flashing to his mind suddenly.  It would only serve the purpose of intimidating Misty more and intensifying the fun, both of which Ash craved fiendishly. His hand still on over her mouth, he stuck his paintball gun in her side, narrowing his eyes playfully into her trembling ones. 

            "Shut up or I shoot, Misty," he taunted, trying to sound serious amidst his unstoppable chortling. It was difficult, but surprisingly, he was managing. He could feel Misty shaking beside him.  "Either that, or my whole team will hear you, and _they'll shoot you."_

            Misty wasn't evidently pleased with Ash's intrusion, but she hushed up nevertheless. Her eyes never left him, but they now glared at him instead of gawking at him fearfully. She wasn't stunned anymore, she was irritated.  Her look was not at all frightening to Ash; he just grinned proudly, pushing his gun further into her gut teasingly.  She squirmed away from it, shutting her eyes and giving her head a vicious shake in attempt to free herself from Ash's hold. When she failed, she found herself reluctantly looking at him again, into the face of her noticeably giddy friend, who was taking pleasure from her torment.  He knew she was easy to scare, and overcome with resentfulness, she fidgeted with her gun, trying to get a good hold of it and point it in Ash's direction.

            Ash noticed this, and his eyebrows rose attentively at the sight.  "Hey, don't you dare!" he commanded.  "Put it down, or you'll be covered in pink!"

            Even through the muzzle, Ash had no problem distinguishing the venomous growl Misty gave him.  Regardless, she dropped her gun gently to the ground and slackened, giving him a wearied look.

            "You not gonna shoot me?" Ash asked her, cocking his head. "I won't shoot you if you don't shoot me, okay?"

            Her eyes showing confusion, yet consent, from beneath the face shield, Ash finally lifted his hand from her mouth.  She retreated slightly from him right away, giving him the oddest look she could produce.

            "What are you _doing?" she exclaimed, her brow furrowed. She was still attempting to settle her restless breathing. _

            A smile still plastered on his face, Ash shrugged.  "I dunno.  Saying hi."

            "And you had to sneak up on me and scare the living hell out of me to do that?" Misty sighed in exasperation.

            "How else could I do it?" Ash grinned.

            Misty just shook her head, and reached up to scratch underneath her helmet.  "Oh boy . . ."

Ash giggled cheerily, drawing another jaded look from Misty.  He smiled innocently, and Misty groaned. 

"I'm glad you're so happy with nearly killing me, you jerk. But I don't get it.  If you're so good at sneaking up on me, why didn't you just shoot me?"

            Ash had to laugh at this, the same question flying through his mind as well.  But nah, he couldn't shoot her, and he wouldn't.  Shrugging again casually, he thrust his nose into the air.  "I don't want to shoot you . . . yet.  I'm just taking you as my prisoner."

            At that, he stuck his tongue out at her, watching her jaw drop in surprise and slight disgust.

            "Your _prisoner?" she gasped, after which uttering an incredulous chuckle. "Yeah, right."_

            "Yeah," Ash clarified, pointing his gun at her jokingly.  "So if you bother me even a little bit, I'll shoot.  Or hand you over, either way.  I'm sure your team won't miss you, anyway."

            His derisive tone sent a petulant wave through her veins, and Misty stiffened. Opening her mouth to shoot something back at him, she suddenly halted herself, pausing for a moment as she formed her response in her mind.  She grinned slyly to herself, and snickered cockily, rolling her eyes. "Hmmph! That's what you think!"

            Ash's eyes widened in shock. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

            Cackling softly under her breath, Misty smirked confidently.  "Do what you wish, Ash.  Shoot me, if you want.  You'll just have to face a whole load of my teammates afterwards."

            Ash didn't believe a word she was saying – hardly.  He scoffed at her highly self-assured tone, shaking his head.  "What teammates, Misty?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

            Misty scowled at him, but still continued smoothly. "Everyone who's behind me. They're all watching out for me, you know, being their best player and all."

            "Best player!?" Ash snorted, a hand careening towards his mouth to block the rush of laughs.  The sharp glare from Misty returned. "Sure, in your fantasy world, maybe."

            "Grr!" Misty snarled.  "Fine, believe what you want.  I do happen to be doing very well!  I already shot about three players from your team!"

            Ash raised an eyebrow skeptically.  "Really?"

            "Of course!" she retorted, her undoubted tone not faltering one bit. 

            "With your lousy shot?" Ash challenged ridiculously. He gave her a face.  "Okay, Misty.  And tell me again – exactly _how did you manage to improve so quickly?  I think I missed that part."_

            Misty got ready to reply hotly, but she was unexpectedly at a loss of words.  She realized the peril of that pause, and quickly sputtered, "Well . . . y-yeah, you know, I—I did!  Just figured out that . . . I had to shoot and . . . and—and focus." Suddenly, she blushed, giving him a hard look.  "I don't have to explain my tactics to _you!"_

            She knew it wasn't working anymore, though.  Her act was up.  Knowing he was on to her by his blissfully snooty gaze, she narrowed her eyes begrudgingly and huffed,  tossing her head aside with a pout.  She nearly fell over as the weight of her helmet took her along with it, but she promptly righted herself with her flailing arms, faced with Ash's light chuckling.  It didn't lighten her rigid expression right away, but as she stared into her friend's amused, but affectionate eyes, her face fell, disheartened.

            "Yeah, very funny, Ash. Just what I need, more humiliation and torture from this stupid game," she mumbled glumly, hunching her shoulders.

            Ash's face lit up in shock as she said this, but his smile remained.  "Whaa? Torture? I thought you just said you were doing good!"

            Misty gave him a fed up look.  "Oh, please.  I know you didn't believe me with that." She shook her head despondently.  "You know what? Why don't you just shoot me out now and save yourself the time and energy? Spare me, at least."

            Ash's smile suddenly faded, lowering into a solemn look of curiosity. He set his gun aside slowly.  "Aww, what are you talking about, Misty? What, you're not having fun?"

            Misty froze for a second, her eyes glancing down.  "Are you kidding?" she replied wearily.  "I'm terrible.  I stink so bad."

            Ash slumped compassionately, shrugging slightly. "Well, why didn't you say that before? What was with the act?"

            Misty's head shot up abruptly at the question, but she turned away slowly, smiling a bit embarrassingly.  "I . . . I didn't want you to know that." She ground her jaw unnoticeably, not even wanting to disclose that as she did.  She reached over and snatched a long weed from the ground, absentmindedly twisting and yanking at it with her hand.

            "Misty!" Ash exclaimed quietly, throwing his arms into the air. He laughed briefly, his voice lowering to a serious tone. "You didn't have to hide that from me.  I already knew you stunk!"

            The last outburst, clashing with the seemingly gentle-hearted statement that preceded it, caused Misty's mouth to drop open in humored appall.  She shut it hard against a flustered grin, and threw the weed at Ash ferociously.  The pathetic plant simply smacked against his face shield, falling into the hysterical boy's lap, forgotten.  Joining in with his laughter, the two went for a good minute without speaking, taken over by the silliness of the moment. 

            Ash was the first to talk after their round of giggles, shaking his head nonsensically and breathing heavily.  "Misty! So what have you been doing, just hiding from everyone?  I told you to follow Brock! He would have shown you what to do!"

            "Oh, who, Yak-boy!?" she spat amidst her undying laughter, rolling her eyes.  "Last I saw him, he couldn't see a foot in front of his face and walked directly into a tree. Some help he would have been! I figured it was best going out on my own."

            "Mmmmm," Ash agreed, nodding.  "That's probably true."

            "So I just wandered around," she continued. "I saw a few people from your team, but I didn't shoot at them."

            Ash's eyes widened.  "Why not?"

            "I was afraid," she said, shrugging.  "I knew I would miss, and they would just find me and shoot me, instead.  Wasn't worth it."

            Ash cocked his head and tsked. "Ya see? That's why you're having such a bad time.  You're not even trying!"

            "Well, how can I?" she asked.  "It's such a risk to randomly try to shoot people.  I would have done it if I knew I had at least _somewhat of a chance.  But . . . I dunno, I guess . . . I guess I'm just afraid of getting hit. Thought it'd be better just to hang around and lay low, watch the action."_

            "Yeah well, trust me, Misty, I've done that for years and I can tell ya that that's not the way to have fun," Ash said.  "You have to go out there and be part of it, shoot around a little! Just because people shoot at you, doesn't mean they'll hit you.  You might get lucky, and you'll hit them first!"

            Misty smiled softly. "I suppose. So . . . so how've you been doing?"

            Ash lowered his eyes and shook his head, aggravated.  "I'd rather not go into that.  Sucks just being on that other team."

            "I know. Didn't shoot anybody?"

            "Didn't even get the _chance," he replied.  He ended there dully, not even wanting to continue with the account of what the game was like so far.  He had almost completely forgotten it as a result of the spontaneous rendezvous with Misty. _

            Thankfully, Misty didn't press him to go on.  "Oh," was all she said.  "Well, even so, you've probably been doing better than me anyway.  At least you're not afraid to take a chance . . . or handle the gun, for that matter.  I can't even hold it, it feels so weird. I . . . I don't even want to hold it."

            Ash sighed.  He felt bad as she recounted her dilemma, especially since she had been depending on him to pull her out of it from the start.  Remembering the promise he had given her before Gary had come sauntering along, Ash hated to hear that she wasn't even having a decent time paintballing.  Stupid teams . . . right now he, Misty, Brock, and Tracey could have been wandering around through the woods, shooting when they had the opportunity and having a grand time. And not to mention the side help Misty could have received, possibly changing her attitude towards the game altogether.  Ash hated to hear her beat up the game and herself as a result of that.

            Despite the gloomy mood he had put himself suddenly into with those thoughts, Ash grinned.  "Don't talk that way, Misty.  I'm sure you'll do really good if you try hard."

            "Ash, that's really cliché," Misty disputed.  "Look, paintballing isn't my thing.  I just can't do it."

            "Yes you can!" he insisted.  "And you know why?"

            Misty gave him an apathetic half-smile.  "Why, Ash?"

            Smiling mysteriously, Ash reached down and picked up her gun, settling it into her hands. She looked at him confusingly, holding the gun languidly.

            "Because I'm gonna help you," Ash answered, beaming contentedly.

            "Help me?" Misty echoed in disbelief.  She snickered.  "I thought I was your prisoner!"

            "Oh, you still are," Ash replied matter-of-factly and a little haughtily, "but I wanna help ya out at the same time.  You know, show you how to paintball like I promised."

            Misty was shocked, gaping at him with a huge smile on her face as he finished.  She honestly couldn't believe he was saying this.

            "But . . . but you shouldn't do this," she laughed.  "We're on different teams!  You can't go . . . _cavorting with the enemy and show them how to play the game! You __want them to stink!"    _

            Ash had to laugh as well, realizing that at the same time, however, he didn't agree all too well with her.__

_            But I should be doing this, he told her mentally.  __We may be on different teams, and I may be cavor—whatever that is, with you, but you aren't the enemy, and . . ._

            "I don't want you to stink," he said, both finishing his thoughts and saying what he really wanted to tell her.  Shrugging and giving her another face to convey the nonsense of her feelings, he winked playfully at her.              

            _And it sure as hell beats hanging out with Gary . . ._

            "I want you to have fun," he told her sincerely. _And I wanna have fun, too.      _

            For the first time that day, Ash felt sure of one thing with such conviction.  As Misty smiled her pleasantly surprised and grateful smile, and gazed at her gun for a moment with interest, Ash couldn't have felt more great.  Here was, without a doubt, where he was going to find his fun.

            "Well . . . I guess I have no choice then, do I?" Misty chuckled.  

Ash shook his head briskly.  "You're stuck with me now, prisoner!" he gloated.

"Oh, great," Misty groaned, rolling her eyes.  "Game just keeps getting better and _better . . ."_

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

_And thus the fluff will begin! LOL Well, as close to fluff as _I_ can get . . . ummm, it shall be dramatic fluff! *^__^* And cuteness all around—I mean, you put Ash and Misty together in the woods with paintball guns, what else do you expect? Hehe! ^^ _

_Next chapter be Friday, as usual. Hope you're enjoying it!_


	4. Part 4

Love and War

_By Spruceton Spook_

Part 4

The scene became quiet again, the tranquility of the forest setting absorbing into Ash and Misty as they sat in the shade, their eyes wandering about them daintily.  Warm, humid breezes blew through the leaves, birds chirped lively in the branches above their heads, and the ground was soft and comfortable.  The two opponents sat cross-legged beside each other, breathing serenely and slacking as they looked around, occasionally glancing at each other for a moment.  Each and every time this happened, huge, zany smiles swept to their faces, followed by short chuckles. It was way too weird for either of them to grasp.

"So what's your team going to say when they find you hanging out with me?" Misty asked humorously, the sun gleaming off her face shield. "Kick you out of Pallet Town?"

Ash's eyebrows rose in wonder.  "Yeah, maybe," he joked, shrugging. He gave her a sly nod right afterward.  "But I'll find my way back in."

Misty laughed quietly, lifting her face so that the sun was shining down upon it.  Practically the first time she could relax and let her worry lift, she basked in its strong rays, leaning back against a tree trunk with a pleasant moan.  Yawning peacefully and stretching, she looked over at Ash, only to receive a sensitively disgraceful look from him.  Her eyes darted for a moment.

"What?" she asked, grinning confusingly.

Ash smiled, shaking his head.  "What do you mean, _what?" he exclaimed, glaring harmlessly.  "That's not how you paintball, sitting back and napping like that! Up, prisoner!"_

"I wasn't napping!" Misty protested with a giggle, righting herself anyway.  She grabbed at her gun to make it look like she was still paying attention, and smirked at him.  "And stop calling me 'prisoner.'"

"No," Ash replied.  "Live with it, prisoner."

Misty snorted, trying to be serious about it, but her smile didn't help that.  She really had no problem with him calling her that, especially as she could see he was obviously getting a kick out of it.  Just as long as he didn't rub it in, though.  It still wasn't _that acceptable to her ego, the game being as degrading as it already was. _

"You always have to be alert and ready," Ash explained.  "Sitting back like that just kills all the excitement of the game.  And you don't want that!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," Misty apologized, shrinking away bashfully.  She chuckled through a wide smile, flashing her pearly white teeth.  "It's just so pretty here in the woods."

Ash rolled his eyes.  "Uh-huh.  Pretty woods filled with a bunch of enemies all wanting a piece of dumb, defenseless targets such as you!"

"Dumb!?" Misty gasped, her jaw dropping.  "Why you!"

Ash yelped, beginning to laugh as he held up his hands to ward off Misty's fists, flying friskily at him.

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean it that way!" he cried.  She just guffawed louder, bunching her face determinedly as she tried to get past Ash's hands to get a good hit on him. Ash lost himself completely in the laughter as her playful punches fell on his arms.

"Mi-misty, cut it out! Come on, _stop!" he shouted, his voice peaking and cracking yet again. He quickly clasped a hand over his mouth and cleared his throat, his face reddening slightly. _

Letting up on him at that, Misty gave him a shrewd grin. She sighed to catch her breath from the ruckus as Ash's embarrassed blush faded.  He released his mouth, and put a finger to his lips, lowering to a whisper.  "We can't be so loud!"

Misty folded her arms in front of her chest.  "Well, don't call me dumb again."

"Believe me, I won't," Ash replied sheepishly, rubbing his arms up and down and sweatdropping.  He straightened himself, adding swiftly, "I'll just call you 'prisoner.'"

"Oh, yay," she said sardonically, shaking her head.

            Ash beamed sinisterly, his body getting all jumpy from the amusement.  He breathed to calm his beating heart, watching Misty wrinkle her nose at him.  His nerves were almost too high-strung, a completely rapid change of pace from what they had been not a half an hour ago.  Finally, things were starting to go the way he'd expected. 

            Gradually, his frivolous manner still radiant, he turned his head, scanning his eyes over the bushes and out into the open.  It was the first time he became observant since the rowdiness, and in an instant, he was almost frightened that it had been a senseless mistake to make.  He braced, his perception picking up movement about a hundred feet away, a mere rustling of bushes.  His smile faded at once, a sharp, serious stare replacing it.  His mouth agape, his head froze in the direction of the activity, attentive.

            Misty caught this immediately, and she paled slightly.  "What is it?" she asked nervously, jumping to her knees to catch a glimpse of what had stolen Ash's attention.

            "There," Ash whispered, gesturing to where his eyes were fixated with just a quick nod of his head.  He didn't move otherwise.  "I think I see someone."

            Misty's heart took an excited leap, and her eyes roamed as she tried to find what Ash was seeing.  Silence penetrated and Misty engrossed herself into it, concentrating and waiting for the sound of the movement to prick her ears.  However, she didn't get much of a chance to focus and become conscious, as Ash quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her down to the ground.   

            She turned to him, seeing that his smile had returned.  He was notably delighted, shivering with excitement.  Pursing her lips, she cocked her head.

            "Is there someone there?" she asked.

            His smile spreading from ear to ear, Ash nodded energetically.  "Yup! Someone from my team. Here's your chance!"

            "Ch-chance?" Misty gulped, nervousness zapping through her. 

            "Yeah!" Ash replied.  "C'mon, you're gonna get him!"

            "Get him?" Misty echoed, her voice squeaky.  "But I –"

            Ash abruptly pulled her up, but only enough that her head barely popped out from above the bushes.  Grasping onto her baggy shirt, and brought his head over to hers so that their helmets clinked together.

            "See him?" he asked, his voice low and delicate. "All the way over there."

            Misty squinted and gazed out into the woods.  She looked around for a second, and seeing nothing, she opened her mouth to ask him where.  Just before the word slipped through her lips, however, her eyes met up with the player, his camouflage out of place amid the slightly lighter shrubbery he was hiding poorly behind. 

            "Yea – yeah . . ."

            "Okay, ya ready for this, then?" Ash asked, giving her a nudge.  "Now, just hold onto your gun, find him in your viewfinder, and shoot.  You can do it!"

            Misty's lips quivered apprehensively.  "But . . . but that's someone from your team, Ash! Why do you want me to shoot at him?"

            Ash scowled softly and waved it away.  "Don't worry," he assured her, "it won't hurt the team at all.  That's what you're here for, anyway!"

            "Yeah, but I . . ." Misty trailed off, swallowing uneasily.  She began to shake, feeling overwhelmed from both Ash's encouragement for her to shoot and the chance that she herself was in danger.  Then of course was the feeling deep in her gut, the feeling that told her it wasn't right.  Something about the "enemy" telling her to take out one of his own players just didn't fit.  But even as the thoughts swarmed her mind, they were totally extinguished as Ash prompted her more and more.

            "Look, it's okay, Misty!" Ash laughed gently, giving her a shake.  

            "But it's not for you!" she objected, holding the paintball gun to her chest. "I'm just hurting you by doing this!"

            Ash sighed, giving her a promising smile.  "Misty . . . it's _no big deal. I told you I was going to help you, so how else would I do that? Listen to me, I don't care.  I wanna see you bag a victim and have fun with this! That's all."_

            Misty opened her mouth the reply, but Ash continued.

            "Besides, I don't even know who that is, so it doesn't matter to me!" he giggled.

            Shrinking her shoulders, Misty shut her mouth and looked down at her gun.  Carefully, she hoisted it alongside herself, slipping her finger into the trigger hole and propping up the end of it.  As she pointed it towards the direction of where the opponent hid, she threw Ash another questionable glance, her eyes restless. 

            "Are you sure?"

            "Sure I'm sure!" Ash nodded.  "Go ahead, go for it!"

            Cringing nervously, Misty took a huge breath, and turned back to the opponent.  Luckily, it appeared that he hadn't noticed them, but that didn't mean anything.  He could very well know they were there, and Misty trembled.  She wondered if he would make a move unexpectedly, right before she would.           

The negative thoughts didn't help her concentration at all.  Mixed with her shaking, Ash watched as the gun wavered in her grip. Right away, his eyes fell worriedly, knowing that the shot wouldn't do much.  Misty would be incredibly lucky to pull off such a feat, and his prediction was nothing short of correct.  Her finger trembling erratically, she pulled the trigger and the gun fired, the paintball sailing far from where it was intended to.

            Misty yelped as the gun went off in her hands, still not used to its abrupt method. Ash panicked immediately, knowing the shot had missed, and wondered how suddenly a retaliation would occur. Terrified for Misty, he quickly grabbed the clearly disoriented girl and pulled her to safety behind the bushes.

            "Get down and stay down for a moment," he instructed her, his voice tense. "He might shoot!"

            "Oh man, I didn't get him, did I?" Misty asked sadly.

            Ash didn't reply, but Misty knew the answer. Slumping at the disappointing but not surprising news, she groaned.  Ash didn't console her at the moment, instantly bounding to his knees again to inspect what was happening.  To his shock, there the opponent was, up and exposed.  His heart pounded in his chest, but instead of shooting back or charging at them in ambush, the boy turned and dashed away, hurdling over low bushes and stumps and weaving between trees. 

            Seeing the prime opportunity, Ash yanked Misty up forcefully. She rapidly looked yonder and saw her opponent fleeing along with him.

"Quick," he told her, his tone anxious, "there he is! Shoot again, shoot again!"

            Misty startled considerably.  "Wha-what? Shoot again!?" she exclaimed.  

            "Yeah! You still might get him!"

            Misty's eyes were glued to the retreating boy, blinking madly from the unwanted excitement.  "But Ash, I don't wanna –"

            It was too late anyway. After putting another two or three hundred yards between them, the boy dove for cover behind a tree, disappearing from sight.

            _Coward, Ash thought. __Running away from Misty, too. Geez. He chuckled to himself.___

_            They stood there quietly, both watching in the distance and waiting.  Each surrounding sound became clear and acute, and their mouths hung open in anticipation and suspense. Misty, gripping her gun so tightly her hands sweat, prayed that nothing would happen, that the boy would run farther and farther away.  This is exactly the kind of nerve-wracking action she wanted to avoid.  She knew she would miss, she knew she would put herself at risk.  She felt lucky that the opponent hadn't fired back, considering it a miracle.  _

            Ash sighed noisily, glancing at Misty.  "So much for that," he said.

            "I _hated that," Misty mumbled in response, her blue eyes blazing._

            Ash chortled softly. "Oh come on, that was fun.  Admit it."

            "No, that wasn't fun!" she begged to differ.  She looked disgustingly at the paintball gun.  "I hate this thing.  And I hate this game! I was destined to suck at it."

            Ash gave her a tender, easy look. "Oh, you are not. You're just too nervous when you shoot. Your arms are all over the place and you're shaking like crazy!" he said, gesticulating wildly. "Your paintballs practically do loops in the air when you shoot them!"

            Misty couldn't hold back her laugh as he said this.  Seeing her bad mood lift, Ash smiled as well, pleased.

            "I'm just wasting the paintballs, though," Misty lamented, her giggles suddenly dwindling.  "I just . . . I dunno, I'm just completely lost in this game, a waste to my team altogether! I have no idea what I'm doing, and even when I _do, I'm too damn fidgety to even concentrate!" She looked down despondently, shutting her eyes.  _

            "I just . . . I just hate it."

            Ash fell silent as she whined her despair, tilting his head compassionately. He drew back slightly as she lifted her head, staring at him with rigid confusion.

            "And I don't why you're hanging out with me, or even trying to help me!" she cried.  "You're just wasting your time, Ash. Wasting your time and jeopardizing yourself."

            "Jeopardizing myself?" Ash exclaimed incredulously, a laugh escaping him.  "Oh please, Misty, nobody'll care that I hung out with you!"

            "Well, apparently they will, according to Gary!" Misty argued firmly.

            Ash sagged, shaking his head.  "No they won't. And even if they do, I surely don't care one way or another.  It's just a stupid game, Misty."

            "Yeah, well . . . still!" Misty huffed. "I seriously think you should do everyone a favor and shoot me out, which is what you should have done in the first place instead of making me your dumb prisoner! You're just doing this because you feel bad for me, and I don't want that, Ash! It's _stupid!"_

             Ash just stared at her placidly.  She stared back, then looked away, not knowing what to make of Ash's reaction.  Either he was taking in her words thoughtfully and considering them, or he was waiting for her to cool down.  With all honesty, she hoped it was the latter. She didn't want to be shot out at all, and certainly not by Ash. Nor . . . nor did she want him to leave her.  

            She didn't even know why she was saying what she was saying.            

Misty glanced back at Ash warily, almost fearing to see what his expression was. She startled as she was met by a smile, an almost suspicious one at that.  Although her body loosened in relief, she was still utterly confused.

            "What?" she asked inaudibly.  

            Ash shook his head, beckoning her to follow as he got onto his hands and knees and began to crawl.  Misty, looking baffled, did so.

            "Where are we going?" she said gingerly, feeling rather embarrassed suddenly from her outbursts and the fact that Ash had simply ignored them. 

            "Gotta move to a new place," Ash replied, his voice perky and happy.  "You should always move after you shoot."

            "Oh," she replied, giving him a weird look. 

That was all he was going to say after her whine? It was hard for her to believe, as she wouldn't have been surprised if he had left her then and there.  He wasn't the patient type, and hardly had he ever tolerated her complaining for as much as he was now.  No, he was being too cool, too strange . . . 

There had to be something else.

Misty was itching to discover what that something else was, but she was hesitant.  It would involve more talking, more insistence.  She already felt dumb fussing so much, and it obviously wasn't swaying Ash. She was glad, though.  It was true she was having no fun paintballing, but she had to admit she was enjoying it more with his company.

            _Maybe if you shut your mouth and let him help you, you might have fun, she convinced herself as she followed him through the low plants and grasses.  __Enjoy yourself!_

            Well, she would try.  The last attempt at paintballing was certainly not a successful one, but Misty thought it would be best to put it to the back of her mind.  She felt better already as she and Ash settled in a different area.  Though not far from where they had been, it was still a change of scenery, and Misty found she liked it better.

            Ash's face had not changed much from when she last looked at him.  He wasn't smiling anymore, but he was still visibly content.  Apparently, her words had gone in one ear and out the other, and she couldn't be more pleased. Still, she couldn't rid the sinking, nervous feeling that returned as Ash boosted her paintball gun from the drooping position she had been holding it in.

            "Are you ready to try again?" he asked her encouragingly.

            _Did you hear a word I said? she told him in her mind. But outside, she glanced away apprehensively.  "I don't know . . ."_

            Ash sighed wearily. "No, you _do know.  You __are ready."_

            Misty was ready to truthfully object, but she declined.  "Whatever you say," she shrugged, putting on a grin.

            Ash nodded satisfyingly, then surveyed the area.  "I feel good about it this time, Misty.  I know you're gonna shoot out the next person we find."

            _Don't bet your life on that, Misty smirked in her mind. At least she was delighting in Ash's silly predictions. The moment wasn't a complete loss._

            "And why do you think that?" she replied, arching her eyebrows.

            "I just know it," he said, not turning to her. He was too busy scanning about.

            Misty accepted it, though she still didn't understand his reasoning behind it. No big deal, though . . . he could think and predict all he wanted; there was no way she was going to shoot someone today. 

            "So we're just gonna sit here for another hour waiting for someone to come by?" she asked, dragging her voice a bit impatiently. The new stakeout having less shade then the last, she started to fan herself with her hand as the heat intensified. 

            "Maybe," Ash answered.  "Maybe not."

            Grumbling, Misty sat back.  "I'm getting bored sitting around.  I want to move and walk around."

            "And create a convenient moving target!" Ash put in, snickering. He gave her a gentle, derisive smile.  "Okay, Misty.  You go do that."

            "Well, this is dull!" she griped, feeling it oh-so-easy to do. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. "We're gonna be sitting here forever."

            A brief silence passed. "Ummm . . . maybe not."

            Misty's eyes shot open, and she jumped up to look at Ash.  Sure enough, that smile had returned, the one with a splash of excitement and restiveness.  

            "Oh great," she cringed, paling and sweatdropping.

            Ash waved away her attitude passively.  He grinned insanely, his eyes never leaving the individual he had spotted. The person was walking quietly through the woods, obviously unaware that he was being watched or that his enemies were even in the vicinity. Correction, _enemy.  Ash had to keep reminding himself of that._

Though he had feared that they would sit there for some time as Misty had been moaning, he was still optimistic that someone would pop up somewhere. The move had done its charm, and now with a little bit of tedious focusing, Ash was convinced that this had to be someone from his team.  Strenuously, he began to swat Misty's shoulder, urging her to get up.

            Rolling her eyes, Misty haggardly complied. _Might as well get this over with, she thought, being sure to swat him back first before anything else was done._

            Ash was ecstatic, more than excited that Misty was going to have another chance. He was convinced that it would be different this time, and he was going to make sure of it.  He squinted vigorously to try to identify the opponent, whose side profile was facing him at the moment. Every so often, he would walk into shade, decreasing the sun glare on his eye shield and revealing more detail on his face. He was not far away at all, and was moving ever so slowly.

            "Come on, Misty!" he whispered giddily, restlessly hopping in place.  Misty watched him with an amused grin, amazed at his enthusiasm as well as bewildered by it.  Why was he so enthusiastic about helping her?

            _He's wasting his time, she could only conclude.  __Either that, or he's just out to laugh at my expense . . ._

Nevertheless, she continued to smile apathetically and wait for his command, as useless as it would be.  She looked out and saw her opponent, shocked that he was so out in the open as compared to the last one.  Following the boy for a moment, she turned back to Ash to see what sort of crazed, ravished expression had molded itself onto his face. 

            However, that was far from what she saw. Ash's elated face had out of the blue fallen, inducing Misty's to do the same.  She opened her mouth to ask what was the matter, but it just hung agape as his facial expression changed again.  His eyes narrowed, a frown overshadowed his once-jovial smile, and he looked positively blown out of the water.  In an appalled sort of way, to add.

            "A-ash?" Misty squeaked, befuddled.  "What's wrong?"

            Ash couldn't believe it.  His lips parting from their grave scowl, he growled.  "It's him."

            "Him? Him who?"

            "_Him. I can't believe it . . ."_

            Confounded, Misty could only gawk at him.  "W-who, Gary?" she asked, him being the first person to come to mind considering Ash's sudden hostility.  Surely no one else would fit the reaction . . .

            But yet, Ash shook his head, his face bunching up even more irately. Breathing uneasily, he crouched lower behind the bush, his eyes still blazing in the direction of _him – whoever that was.  Her face desperately imploring for clarification, Misty continued to stare at Ash as he came down beside her._

            "Ash, who is it?" she asked frantically.  Ash's face was nearly frightening her.

            Swallowing heavily, he turned to her. "Tyler," he answered repulsively.

            Misty's brow furrowed.  "Who's Tyler?"

            Ash paused for a moment, as he tried to collect himself.  Misty wanted him to explain to her who Tyler was?  How could he even begin?  Feeling miserable simply recalling his name and appearance in his mind, Ash wondered how he could possibly achieve this without blowing a fuse.  

            "Tyler was a kid I knew in elementary school," Ash said, his tone venomously antagonistic.  "Well, not just knew – I was friends with him."

            Sensing hanging in his voice, Misty asked, "But?"

            Ash glanced at her, biting down hard on his lip.  He sent another harrowing glare in Tyler's direction, making sure that he had not left his sight.  He hadn't . . . though a little bit of him wished he had.

            "But that wasn't for long.  Not after . . . not after what he did."

            "What did he do?"

            He took a deep breath.  "Well, it was a long time ago.  I mean, a _real long time ago – third grade to be exact." _

            "What happened?" Misty asked weakly. His strong bitterness was stirring her curiosity intensely, and she looked at him with deep concern. 

"We used to be really good friends," Ash explained.  "I mean, we did a lot together, we both were interested in Pokémon. He was over my house a lot. We used to have so much fun, but then . . . suddenly, I . . . I don't know what happened, but he started ignoring me and he wouldn't talk to me.   I didn't do anything, so of course I was really confused and stupidly kept trying to find out what was wrong with him and talk to him, but . . . he must _really have not wanted me to hang out with him anymore."_

Misty's face fell.  "Oh, that's too bad."

"Yeah, well, that's not all," Ash said sourly. As he saw Tyler moving further away, he hastily continued.  "Not only did he stop hanging out with me, but he started hanging out with this other group of kids, who just . . . starting teasing me all of sudden, never leaving me alone.  They made fun of everything about me: my clothes, my schoolbag, everything I practically did.  And I mean, I was just a seven-year-old, eight-year-old kid . . . that stuff hurts."

His voice began to waver, clear that although this happened quite a long time ago, it was still tormenting to Ash.  

"I know," Misty nodded sympathetically, her tone low.  

"I knew he was the ringleader of the whole thing," Ash said, shaking his head.  "Those kids had never bothered me until Tyler starting hanging out with them. To this day . . . to this day I have no idea what I did to him, but I was never friendly with him again.  Worthless jerk . . ."

            He turned back to where Tyler was prowling around, looking attentive and cautious.  Just seeing him again made irate shivers run through him, his eyes shooting daggers.  His fists tightened, and he looked back at Misty again, his face stone cold with seriousness.

            "You have to do this for me, Misty," he told her determinedly, surprising the girl.  She drew back.  "You have to shoot Tyler out for me."

            Unbeknownst to Ash, Misty had her own incensed chills as Ash told his story.  She hadn't had much luck with popularity in school as well, and hearing an account of anyone – especially Ash – teased in school, she became compassionate. And considering the cause of this unhappiness was just a hundred yards away, she was shocked as her urge to shoot at the opponent was strengthening.  

            Still, she was taken by Ash's sudden desire.  His brown eyes glowed of steady, angry resolve.  

            "Please, Misty," he said again.  "I would like _none other than to see him go down. Will you try as hard as you can for me? Please?"_

            She couldn't say no, she couldn't resist.  How could she? Misty knew this was no time to complain or whine.  Ash was dead serious; this guy had apparently taken a toll on him.  Whether it had been years ago or not, it wasn't important.  After pausing gawk-eyed at him for a moment, Misty finally straightened, her lips pulling into a bold smile. 

            "I'll try," she told him earnestly.  She couldn't promise anything to him, as she knew that as much as Ash's story burned her up, it wasn't going to make her a superb shot.  She regrettably believed her paintball would be blasting past the infamous Tyler useless.  But for Ash's sake . . . she wished with all her heart that it would end differently.  It had to now.

            "Thanks," Ash said whole-heartedly.  Finally, a smile returned to his face, but this one wasn't happy or excited . . . it was full of pure cunning and even a hint of evilness. Misty had to smile, also. This was getting interesting.

            Yet, she knew she was no match against her nerves as the time to shoot came too rapidly.  Ash was brushing up alongside her as she knelt behind the bush, her gun shaking in her hands and pointed towards the still-wandering Tyler.  

            _It's gonna be a miracle if I get him, Misty lamented to herself.  However, she did all she could to try to calm herself as she peered down the long barrel of her paintball gun and through the target at the end.  Tyler's image jumped around in the viewfinder, never settling._

            "You don't have much luck with old friends, do ya, Ash?" Misty mused, hoping that maybe conversing would ease her trembling limbs. 

            "Not really," Ash replied, chuckling quietly.  He watched her as she tried to focus, but time was a-wasting, and Tyler was moving away from them every moment. Misty's nervousness was not gone, and it didn't take a firm observer to notice that.  She was shivering fiercely, almost as if they were playing in ten-degree weather rather than the ninety they really were in.  

            "Calm down, Misty," he whispered into her ear. 

            "I can't," she admitted just as low, desperately trying to steady her arms.  "I know I'm gonna miss . . ."

            "No, you won't," he replied, but his words were no use.  Misty nodded, but as much as she tried, she couldn't settle down.  Ash's eyes darted from his pressured friend to Tyler, and his muscles clenched.  

            "Listen," he told her, "just hold the gun steady, look through the target, and make sure the little red dot is on the bastard."

            "ASH!" Misty scolded, shaking her head and smiling. 

            "Fine, make sure it's on _Tyler," he replied begrudgingly, adding on quickly under his breath, "The bastard."_

            Misty rolled her eyes, and returned her attention to the game.  Though she was still smiling, it was slowly fading in apprehension.  Tyler was now further away, and she became shakier.  Closing her eyes for a moment, she replayed Ash's recent advice in her mind, and opened them again, looking down the barrel in search for the red dot.  She didn't recall there being one the last time she had shot, and sure enough, there was not one there now.

            Her face wrinkled in confusion.  "What red dot?" she asked.

            "The red dot in the target," Ash clarified.  "It's right in the center of the target.  Can't you see it?"

            Misty looked harder, but she didn't see the use in it since it was obvious there was no red dot in the center.    

"Umm, no," she answered, taking her face away from the gun to give Ash a strange look.  "What are you talking about? There's no red dot in my target!"

            Ash sighed exasperatedly.  Not only was Misty stubborn about trying, but now she wasn't even willing to accept the gun's useful accessories.  Swiftly but carefully, he took the gun from Misty's hands, groaning.

            "Misty, it's _there.  I don't know what you're doing," he said wearily, looking through the target himself.  To his shock, there was no red light at the center of the target like there was in his gun.  Being part of the radar system, it was simply an electrified aid to help in aiming better, and alas, there was none in Misty's gun._

            "Hmmm," he commented, his voice dragging.  "There's no red dot."

            "Told ya," Misty replied. She folded her arms, insulted.

            Ash lowered the gun and gave her a pained face.  "Your gun's probably not turned on, then," he said, flipping it over to check it out.  The gun was on, but this made him more annoyed than confused.

            "No wonder there's no red dot," he said.  "Someone must have left the gun on and the batteries ran out."

            Misty shook her head.  "That's right, give the terrible novice the defective gun."

            This certainly vexed Ash, who wished at that moment he could give Misty his gun.  But that wasn't going to do much, and by the time they switched paintballs Tyler would be gone for sure. 

            "Well, now we know why you've been missing," he said to Misty, handing her the gun again quickly.  "Can't believe they would give you a gun with no radar.  But don't worry . . . you can do without it."

            "I can?" Misty asked hesitantly.

            "Sure," Ash nodded.  "You're a smart girl, Misty.  Just image there's a red dot right smack in the center, and put it right on Tyler's back-stabbing carcass."

            Misty smiled humbly, both from Ash's crude speech and the remark of her being smart.  She paused, grasping her hands around the gun tightly, and took a deep breath.  She had to do this, she was convinced now.  She couldn't let him down.  

            But damn that nervousness.  She shook again, but had a clear shot of Tyler in her viewfinder. He had surprisingly wandered closer, and it was certain that her paintball would reach him.  That was, if she could keep her gun stable. 

            _Come on, Misty! she growled to herself.  __Hold the gun! Do this right!_

_            She couldn't, however.  Growing angry, she realized there was no use.  Her arms had a mind of their own, and they did not want to cooperate with her at all.  Crestfallen, dejected tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she tried to furiously blink them away.  She was going to let him down; she wasn't going to do this.  But she . . . she had to . . . There had to be some way . . ._

            Ash couldn't take it any longer.  Though he didn't see her tears, there was no mistaking that Misty was upset with her trembling.  She was lost in her quest for concentration, a bundle of nerves.  Tyler was in her midst; there was no other perfect opportunity.  His head twisted back and forth between the two players, his own muscles becoming jumpy and anxious.  Misty needed help – desperate help.  Not just because he wanted to see Tyler painted in yellow, but because Misty needed to do it. She needed the boost of confidence, the feeling of accomplishment and pride.  

            And he needed to see it, also.

            Taking a deep breath, Ash moved towards Misty.  "Here, stop shaking," he told her, reaching around her body and placing his hands on her arms.  He engulfed her in the close embrace, squeezing her arms and bringing the gun to her face. 

            "Relax, and focus," he said in a wobbly, apprehensive voice, restraining her arms from their trembling.  

            A million shivers ran up Misty's spine as Ash did this, her heart making a tremendous leap in her chest.  If he thought this was going to calm her, he had another thing coming.  Her body instantaneously tightened, and she could feel her face heating up. The fingers wrapped around the gun numbed suddenly, but yet, her trembling was dying.

            "O-o-okay," she stammered, gulping.  

            "See Tyler the Jerk in your target? Got him in there?"

            Amazingly, Misty was able to concentrate for a second to discover that Tyler was still framed in her target.  She clenched her teeth and nodded, feeling Ash's hands slip over onto hers.

            "Okay," Ash replied, whispering his words right into her ear.  "I have your arms.  When you think you're ready, just shoot."

            Misty faltered for a second, breathing heavily to soothe her raging heart.  But she knew she couldn't wait for long, and realizing that she could not have had a better shot, she bit her lip, said a quick prayer, and pulled the trigger.

            She did not fly back from the shot as she normally did – Ash was there to prevent that. She fell back into him, but he caught her and bolstered her.  They did not hesitate for a second more as they simultaneously popped their heads over the bush, desperate to discover the result.

            Misty thought she was going to have a heart attack.  Her jaw dropped in utter incredulity, as did Ash's, as they witnessed Tyler flinch and immediately come to a halt, frozen in shock.  He was staring down at his right arm, which was now splattered in yellow, looking positively stunned.

            "Huh?" Misty gasped.

            "Oh my God . . ." Ash muttered inaudibly, ducking his head cautiously as a huge smile swept to his face.  He looked over ecstatically at the speechless, dumbfounded Misty, finding it difficult to contain the victorious whoop that he desperately silenced. 

            Misty continued to stare on as Tyler lifted his head abruptly, scanning for his opponent.  Almost immediately, his head seemed to turn to her direction, and their eyes met in a completely awkward moment.  Sheepishly, Misty grinned, giving him a short wave.    Tyler just slumped in response, looking undoubtedly disappointed.  For a moment, Misty felt bad for him, but nothing was matching the jolt of excitement that cascaded through her.  She had shot someone, and she couldn't believe it!  Seeing the teen sagging depressively before her, shot with _her paintball, seemed too surreal.  And yet, it was true._

            Slowly, she lowered back behind the bush as Tyler shrugged, gave her a thumbs-up in sportsmanship, and walked off.  Misty was shocked that someone who Ash described as heartless and mean could be so cool about it.  But soon that thought was wiped from her mind as Ash grabbed her, spinning her around so that their exuberant smiles faced each other.

            "You did it!" he screamed immediately, struggling to keep in a whisper for fear that Tyler still might spot him.  "Misty, you shot him, you did it!"

            Misty started to laugh, a hand flying to her flushing face.  "I can't believe it!" she managed to say through her shocked laughter.  "I really did it!"

            Ash's smile was incomparable.  "See, I told you you could do it!" he cried, giving her a friendly shove.  "Didn't I tell ya!?"

             Overjoyed, Misty nodded.  She closed her eyes as she let the blissful moment sink into her, one she honestly never thought she was going to experience. 

            "That . . ." she finally said, unable to believe that she was going to admit this, "was _a lot of fun." _

            Ash's eyes lit up.  "Wasn't it?" he agreed.  He shook his head.  "But it was a lot more fun for _me to see that! I . . . hehe, I have to thank you for that, Misty."_

            Misty grinned.

            "Thanks for shooting down a wretched time in my childhood," Ash said, sighing graciously.  "You did real good."

            Looking down, Misty accepted the praise modestly. Her smile irremovable, she gazed back at him again.

            "Well, thanks for helping me," she said softly, her blue eyes gleaming.  She couldn't shake the amazing feeling of Ash's arms around her any more than she could about shooting Tyler. 

            Ash chuckled, giving her a determined nod.  "No problem.  But we aren't done yet!"

            Misty wasn't going to protest that.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

_Ooookay . . . that was weird! Where the heck was this site yesterday, and why was it saying it was only going to be up next Friday? shrugs insanely** I dunno, who cares! Anyways, dang it, I hate being off schedule—even if it isn't my fault. ^_^;;  I just hope this site doesn't up and crash again today. Yeesh. -_-;; Other than that, hope you enjoyed chapter 4! A little longer than usual, and the next 2 chapters will be just as long. But I assume you don't mind the length, right? ^^ Didn't think so! Thanks for reading, and please review!! Thankies!!  **_


	5. Part 5

Love and War

_By Spruceton Spook_

Part 5

            Misty was on a natural high.  It had only been a short time since she had shot Tyler out, and every minute that passed sent another wave of gleeful thrill through her.  Suddenly, everything seemed different – the feel of the paintball gun, the sensation of shooting, and most of all, her attitude.  She found it surprising how her inner feelings toward the game were abruptly reversing, going from utterly miserable and intolerable to fun and electrifying.  Everything was changing.  Everything . . . except for one thing.

            Her jaw was throbbing of dull pain, but it wasn't from cringing or flapping her gums in fuss.  It was nearly impossible for her to look at Ash without matching his perpetual beam.  From the time he had scared her unexpectedly till now, barely seconds went by without a smile pulling at his lips.  There was no doubting his smile now, or hers for that matter.  They had much to smile and laugh about.

            "I still can't believe I did that," Misty said, stunned.  

            "Why?" Ash asked in reply.  "You finally shot someone and now you don't even want to believe it!"  He laughed.  "Misty, if anything was going to boost your confidence, it had to be that!"

            Misty smiled and shrugged.  "I do feel better," she admitted.  "I kinda want to shoot again."

            Ash grinned widely.  "See? I knew you would finally realize!" he replied happily.  "I hated to hear that you didn't like paintball.  It's so much fun."

            "You know, it is," Misty agreed slowly, shocking herself that she actually said that.  Earlier in the game, she couldn't image saying or even thinking anything like that.   She smiled softly at him.  "But I wouldn't have been able to pull that off without you helping me."

            Ash dismissed it with a wave of his hand and a face.  "No, you would've been able to even if I hadn't.  You just need to learn how to relax your arms and pay close attention, following your opponent's every move with your gun.  You do that, and pretty much you have a good chance of hitting him."

            "Really?" Misty asked.

            "Yeah," he answered, gesturing with his hands as he continued.  "I mean, it's also a game of reflexes and strategy; you know, hiding and looking out and all? You have to listen, and look, and be aware.  But when you're shooting, you have to be able to keep still to concentrate and keep your eye on the opponent."

            Misty couldn't help but smile as he spoke of paintballing tactics.  Through his restless excitement, he talked confidently and firmly, sounding so knowledgeable of the game.  He obviously enjoyed it also, as Misty remembered how eager he was to play this year, practically dragging them home drooling.  He hadn't shut up about it for as long as she could remember, and that enthusiasm had yet to die down.

            As he finished, she gave him an admirable look.  "You know so much about paintballing, Ash."

            "Nah," Ash laughed.  "It's just common sense."

            Misty tilted her head interestingly.  "No it's not. I don't know these things.  You sound like you really know about how to play the game.  How do you know so much?"

            Ash smiled humbly, flattered slightly from Misty's words.  Looking down at his gun and absentmindedly running his finger along it, he breathed softly.   "I, uh . . . I used to follow my dad around when he played in the paintball game. Well, when I could get out . . .  had to wait for my mom's back to be turned before I could sneak out with him. I just wanted to be out there so badly." He chuckled and Misty's smile grew.

            "Aww, that's so sweet," she mumbled affably.

            "Yeah, well, Mom didn't think that," Ash chuckled.  "She used to be all crazy and freaked out until I came back with Dad at the end, but I never got hurt.  I just hid in the bushes with him and watched him play.  And he told me all the stuff he was doing, like commentary."  Looking down again, he sighed.  "That used to be so much fun."

            Hearing the solemnity that had suddenly crept into his tone, Misty frowned curiously.  "How come he couldn't make it this year?"

            Ash's head shot up, his eyes glassy.  "Oh, he – he just couldn't, that's all," he hastily replied with a wavering voice.   Quickly, a smile returned to his face and he jumped up, startling Misty.

            "C'mon, let's find another helpless Pallet Towner for you to take out," he grinned energetically.

            "Um . . . okay," Misty said. _Why the heck is he weighing himself down to me?_

            The longing that was evident in his former voice combined with the fervor he'd shown for the past few weeks to participate in this game, didn't seem to settle within the current situation.  It made no sense to Misty. Why wasn't he out playing on his own as he wished, shooting paintballs left and right at his own enemies and having a great time? Why was he with her, throwing away every chance he had to do what he wanted most just to aid her in eliminating _his team? But as much as these thoughts occupied her, she quickly threw her frown away, she smiled along with him. Hey, just because she couldn't comprehend his actions didn't mean that she couldn't appreciate them. _

The tingle that rushed through her at that moment was shocking, as she had no idea where it came from.  The chance to try again was fully anticipated, making her rather dizzy and stirring her frisky craving for amusement.

            "How long do you think we have to wait _this time?" she asked, jokingly complaining._

            Ash sagged, giving her an annoyed, friendly look.  "Oh man," he groaned. "Look, do you want me to just shoot you out now and save ya the _horrible agony of __waiting?"_

            "What? No!" she screamed back, eyes wide.

            Ash reeled back and cowered.  "Geez, okay! Man, your mind changes _fast."_

            Misty chuckled pathetically and gave him a push.  "Well, I finally did something right in this game. I want to keep going!"

"Yeah, but if you keep whining, I'm gonna shoot you out anyway. Don't forget," he said, raising his gun threateningly, "I can do that _wheneeeeeever I want, prisoner.  It might be sooner than ya think." _

Misty wrinkled her nose at him.  "Sure, sure," she scoffed, batting his gun away.  "I bet you will."

Ash's mouth fell open.  "You don't think I will?" he gasped.

"I'd like to see you try."

Ash just stared, a resentful, but lighthearted, look taking over his face.  "What does that mean?"

Shutting her eyes, Misty shrugged.  "Oh, nothing." Taking a zestful breath, she waved him away.  "Just go find me another opponent, Ash."

Her humorously arrogant manner tormented Ash slightly, but he just smirked smugly.  "Well, what if I _don't find you one, huh?  What then?"_

"You will, though," Misty sighed.  

Ash straightened himself confidently.  "No, I won't!"

"Yes, you will," she said indifferently, not affected by his defiance.  Inside, though, she was laughing maniacally.  If there was something more fun than provoking Ash, she would have to experience it to believe it. 

"Oh, yeah?!"

This was way too easy.

"Yeah!" Misty replied with a cocky grin, feeding his annoyance.  He was having fun as well, but there was still something that always drove him to come out on top even in the most friendly of ego-challenges.

Ash snorted.  "Well, just for that, I'm not _going to find you another opponent, Misty.  You're on your own."_

            "Oh, wow! Does that mean I'm not your prisoner any more, then?" she sqeaked, clutching her fists excitedly.

            "No!" Ash barked back. "You're still my prisoner, but now you have to helplessly watch me send your whole team back painted in pink.  And you can do nothing about it!"

            Misty slumped and grimaced, though the smile that was pleading to come to her lips was starting to show itself.  She bit down on her lip harshly as Ash glared haughtily and commandingly at her, wanting so badly to laugh.  She kept her fake pout on and folded her arms, all the while realizing she couldn't battle the urge much longer.  

            Ash, much the same, was having a ball.  It was weird, though.  He knew they were being loud and rambunctious, and they weren't paying attention.  The thought of the game was, as usual, engraved in his mind, but for some reason, he didn't care.  He was having too much fun with the argument, even though everything he said was false and everything she said was not.  She was right about it all – even if he did want to shoot her, he didn't know if he could get up enough courage to do such an outlandish act.  And neither would he go around shooting her team before her eyes . . . that was just plain cruel.  Funny, yes, but cruel.  Maybe she would laugh, too, but there was no way he would do that.

            Seeing her fretting facetiously before her, Ash gave in first and displayed his smile.  The smile was small, but his laughter was charging against it, and he was beginning to crack.  However, Misty was cracking right along with him, and almost instantly, the two exploded into a vigorous fit of giggles.

            Not a word passed between them as they laughed, looking at each other any time their eyes weren't uncontrollably clasped in the hysterics. They lasted that way for a minute or so, gasping for breath by the end of it, which forced them to ease up.  They honestly had no idea what was so funny – they taunted each other ceaselessly, and most of the time it led to battle rather than laughter.  But it didn't matter to them; they were having too much fun to even care.  The humor took hold of them, the giddiness of the moment heightening. 

            Ash quieted first, and watched Misty struggle to control herself, raising her face-shield up to rub the tears away.  Her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead was glossy with perspiration. Fighting to catch her breath, her eyes slowly lifting to lock with his.  She gave him a toothy grin, which he matched almost identically. The last of their laughs dissipating, they stared at each other, both exchanging the fact of how much their squabbles were ridiculous with their bright eyes. 

            "You know," Misty mused, "maybe sometime we should actually try to be completely serious for one day."

            "That would be something to pull off," Ash joked, rolling his eyes.  

            Misty smiled.  "Hey, I think we could do it," she said.  "But, of course, that would include you . . . oh, I don't know, growing up and becoming mature?"

            "Whaa!? Hey!" Ash exclaimed.

Misty guffawed, causing Ash to grind his teeth.  

"That's not funny, Misty! Watch it, I'll – I'll shoot you! I have a paintball with your name on it just _waiting!"  _

            Misty, succumbing to her laughter defenselessly, flinching as he pointing the gun at her.  Sticking her tongue out, she reached for hers.  "Yeah, well, I have a paintball with _your name on it!"_

            Ash sneered at the gun pointed at him, flashing his teeth.  "I _dare you."_

            "Don't dare me, Ash," she warned.

            "Well, if you don't think I'll do it, then I don't think you'll do it, either!"

            "Oh, I'll do it!  You'll be sorry!"

            "Nah, I won't," he replied, smirking.  "If you shoot me, then I'll just shoot you back.  Then it'll be your word against mine as to who shot who first!"

            Misty shrugged.  "They'll believe me."

            "No, they won't."

            "Oh, _sure," Misty snorted.  "Me, the beautiful, helpless, and unfortunately amateur paintballer against a confident, sadly hyper, younger brat as yourself?"_

            "Brat!?" Ash gasped.  

            "Yes, a brat," Misty replied. "You wouldn't stand a chance."

            Ash paused for a moment, pursing his lips in a cunning grin.  "Yeah, but it might be worth it, anyway."

            Misty sighed aggravatedly, ready to shoot back a doubtlessly crude remark, but she restrained from it.  Someone had to stop this, and seeing Ash's whimsical face, still rather boyish for the fourteen-year-old that he was, she knew that was a hopeless cause.  He craved the torture that he caused her, knowing it got to her, but then again, she found herself in the same situation often as well.  Only he never knew when to stop.  And now was the time, seeing as how they were still involved in a very tricky game and neither seemed to remember that.

            "Look," she laughed.  "Why don't we actually go out and shoot _other people rather than ourselves?" _

            Lingering in quiet thought for a moment, Ash nodded.  "That's not a bad idea," he answered, much to Misty's surprise. "You're due for another victim."

            Misty could only smile at this.  There he went again, focusing on her.  As much as she liked it and appreciated the help, it still confused her. Nonetheless, she shrugged, and began to follow Ash through the woods yet again.  

            "We're not gonna get anywhere if we keep arguing like that," she said.

            "Tell me about it," Ash replied, glancing back and winking at her. She did the same, a shudder of complete contentedness cascading through her.  Deep down, she wanted to argue playfully just the more.         

They walked a lot this time, albeit slowly, almost ten minutes on their feet advancing in the direction of the Visitors' side, assuming that much of Ash's team had wandered over there.  They were cautious and quiet, their eyes alert and wide.  Misty was getting the shivers again, and so was Ash for that matter. While Misty was itching from expectancy and impatience, Ash was eager to find someone in hopes that Misty would take out whoever that would be.  He nearly yearned for it. 

            To their surprise, they did not have to wait long for an opponent to emerge. It was actually Misty this time who caught sight of him, but she was weary that it might be someone from her team.

            Ash squinted furiously from where they were perched, even though the individual was not far away.  Figuring either his eyesight was going or the eye-shield before him was hazy, it was hard to tell, but something in Ash's gut told him that this was someone from his team.  He didn't know why he had that sensation, but still he searched for the certain indication: the short pink ribbon that was tied around the person's waist.  Ash didn't have this – he had torn off his yellow one upon joining his "team" and had never replaced it.  At this point, he kind of wished he hadn't even bothered.

            "Can you tell yet?" Misty asked, her voice squeaking with apprehension.

            "Well, it sure as heck ain't Brock," Ash replied, causing Misty to snicker.  "If only he would turn around and get out of the bushes . . ."

            "Holding up a big sign that says 'Shoot Me,'" Misty continued, smiling.

            "Yeah, that would be helpful," Ash replied, straining.  "Damn, and he's so close, too."

            Misty leapt up to look along with him.  "Maybe it's another one of your friends," she bubbled. 

            "_Ack," Ash choked._

            "Say, how many people did you know on that team, anyway?"

            Ash shook his head exasperatedly.  "Too many."

            "You still keep in touch with any of them?"

            Ash glanced at her.  "Have you _seen me keeping in touch with them?" he asked.  Misty just sagged, and Ash smiled.  "No.  Haven't seen them for four years, except Gary, of course."_

            "Well, I hope it's another person that bothered you," she said.  "I felt good helping you out that last time."

            Taking his eyes from the opponent for a moment, Ash gave Misty a broad smile.  "You're the best," he told her, nudging her.

            "Thank you," she replied, arching her shoulders proudly.

            Ash giggled, turning back to scrutinize the person.  As much as he was looking for the pink ribbon, he was trying desperately hard to identify the person as well.  After what Misty had said, he kind of hoped it was one of his old acquaintances.  Whether he had a bad history with them or not, it sure would be fun to watch.  For a moment, he actually wished it was Gary.  Just the thought of it made his body shake with secretive chuckling.

            "C'mon, who is it?" Misty asked, juggling her gun around. "I wanna shoot him!"

            She growled the last desire, and Ash trembled happily.  He still couldn't get over how completely her attitude had changed, but he loved it.  Finally, she was beginning to get excited, beginning to hunger for the adventure and fun, beginning to feel about the game . . . the same way he did.  Blinking calmly, he shook his head.

            "Chill, Misty," he said.  "Let me see who it is first.  I might know him."

            "So it _is someone from your team?"_

            Craning his neck around drastically, Ash peered ardently through the bushes, praying for that splash of pink to hit his eye.  It was such a vibrant color amidst the greenery, and if he could just see for one second . . .

            _Pop!_

The echo of the gunshot resounded mildly through the quiet wood, but it was enough to make Ash and Misty simultaneously screech, taking cover.

            "What was that?" Misty cried frantically, her eyes wide.  "Who shot!?"

            "I dunno," Ash replied shakily, the shot being so unexpected and sudden.  "I don't think they were shooting at us, though."

            Misty shuddered.  "Are you sure?" she whimpered, clearly terrified.  She reached out and grabbed Ash's shirt, pulling herself close to him, feeling more protected and shielded.  She lowered her head and braced herself, her heart pounding from the thrill.

            Ash, meanwhile, was trying to look out to see what had happened, but Misty holding onto him was restraining him.  He pried slightly from her grip to observe the scene, and his mouth dropped as he saw their opponent rushing towards them, obviously the intended victim of the last shot.  His head was shooting back and forth as he careened unknowingly towards them, holding his gun in preparation to fight back. Ash didn't see anyone chasing him, figuring they had taken a shot at him and were too afraid to show themselves. But this boy – this boy Ash recognized as he went sprinting directly past them as indeed one of his old buddies – was well aware that someone was after him.  Only it wasn't Misty.

            Ash beamed, a bolt of antsy eagerness running through him.  He quickly swooped down and seized Misty, who let go of him to see the kid dart by.

            "Quick, Misty!" he shouted just above a whisper.  "It's Danny! It's Danny! Get him!"

            "Okay, okay!" she giggled stimulatedly, lifting her gun and pointing it without hesitation at Danny.  Ash expected her to stall, licking his lips in preparation for the encouragement he was going to give her.  But to his shock, just before he got ready to tell her not to worry, she pulled to trigger, sending a paintball soaring towards the boy. 

            "Whoa!" he exclaimed as she shot, which, to both their astonishment, hit Danny dead-on, causing him to stumble forward a bit.  Misty had successfully caught him in the lower leg, her yellow paint gleaming in the hot, midday sun. This time, they both dove behind the bush instinctively.  

            "Yes! Yes! _Yes!" Misty screamed, low and muffled on account that she was crying through clenched teeth. Her gun dropped from her hand and she held her arms before her, trembling from the commotion. Not even paying heed to what Danny was doing in reaction to his elimination, her glistening eyes flickered into Ash's, dazed with overwhelming pride._

            "You did it! You did it!" Ash cried, incredulous laughter present.  His arms extended as well, and they gripped each other's long sleeves at the same time. "I can't believe it!"

            She broke into laughter along with him.  "Oh my God," she gasped, her face blushing. She was restlessly overjoyed, and shocked at that.  Her heart beat vigorously, threatening to rip from her chest. "That was so much fun!  I did it!"

            Ash's smile was wider and more surprised than she had even seen. He was completely blown away, but intensely happy at the same time. 

            "See?" he said, his voice softening with deep breaths.  "I told you you didn't need my help! You were great!"

            "I can't believe I did that!" she exclaimed again, clutching on more tightly to his sleeves and shaking his arms wildly.  Throwing a quick glance over the bush, she witnessed this Danny walking away, probably still oblivious to who had shot him.  She didn't mind though . . . she had just helped out her team a little bit more. For the first time, she was starting to feel useful, an effective teamster and paintballer. 

            "Who was that?" she asked.  "Danny, you said?"

            Ash nodded, still breathing soundly.  "Yeah, Danny.  Old friend, I guess you could say." He looked off at his old schoolmate trudging off.  "Wow, he's grown.  Hehe, he used to be one of the shortest people in school . . . well, along with me.  We were both small, but the others tended to gang up on him more than me.  Oh my God, in dodgeball . . . heh, you would hit him with the ball and _every time he'd go down! It was so hilarious!"_

            He began to laugh loudly, effortlessly dragging Misty to join in.  Still, she managed to give him shameful eyes through the fun.

            "Aww, Ash, that's not funny!" she giggled scoldingly. "That's mean!"

            "I know, I know," Ash admitted. "But it was so much fun to hit him with the ball! He was so pathetic and wimpy.  I can't believe he didn't fall to the ground after you shot him!"

            Misty sighed and rolled her eyes.  "Oh, Ash, you're something."

            "What?" Ash shrugged defensively.

            "Nothing," Misty giggled, waving him away.  "I just haven't seen you make fun of so many people in one day, that's all.  First me, then Tyler, and now Danny."

            "Well, I can't help it! One's a bastard, one was a complete riot in school . . ."

            Grinning slyly, Misty leaned forward.  "And me? What about me?"

            Ash paused, his smile fading for a moment.  "Well, you," he said, thinking for a moment before his smirk returned, "you're . . . you."

            Misty tilted her head, giving him a pensive look.  She didn't exactly know what he meant by that, but his voice was sweet-tempered and sincere, not mocking.

            "I mean, you're Misty," he continued, shrugging.  "I tease you, and you tease me, because . . ."

            _Because why? she thought, her insides tightening._

            "Because we're best friends.  We can do that to each other because . . . we know it's just for fun, it's not true.  We don't mean any of it.  We just do it to play around."    Slowly, a smile crept to Misty's face.  In all honesty, she didn't expect that answer from him.  She was waiting for him to tell her that she was easy to tease, that it got on her nerves so often, and that it was just plain old fun.  A legitimate Ash statement; one she could have stolen from his own lips. And yet . . . that wasn't what he had said at all. It was more of . . . what she would say. 

            He looked down at the ground.  "I mean, you know I wouldn't shoot you out or – or turn you over to my team." He laughed softly.  "And . . . and all the times I call you names and such . . . that's just for fun.  I don't mean them . . . although you _did pretty much suck this morning with that target practice.  That was a truthful tease."_

            Misty couldn't hold back her laughter at that; it was too true.  "I know," she nodded. "I was so horrible."

            "But you aren't anymore," Ash said gleefully, grinning like a madman.  "That last shot of yours . . . it was . . ." He shrugged, lost in amazement.  ". . . _perfect.  Did you even __focus for that, for God's sake?"_

            "Not really!" Misty replied energetically, thinking about how her muscles, this time jumpy rather than nervous, had loosened and allowed her to shoot without a delay.  "Just pointed and shot."

            Ash slapped his knees in aggravation.  "You know, I practice and practice for years and risk my neck following my dad into the woods and try to be loose and confident, and here you are, coming from knowing absolutely nothing to shooting people out basically on a whim!" He narrowed his eyes.  "What's your secret? What are you, a witch or something?"

            Misty narrowed her eyes.  "No," she retorted. "You just did a good job teaching me."

            "Oh, I did not," he replied humbly, looking away.

            "Yeah, right!" Misty disputed.  "C'mon, Ash, if you hadn't run into me today, I would've still been hangin' out behind that same batch of bushes to the point of insanity.  No on would have ever found me, I woulda been sitting there all day not knowing what was happening, and meanwhile, the game would've been over and I'd still be sitting in the woods like an idiot."

            "No, you wouldn't have!" Ash rolled his eyes at her rambling.  "I would have come looking for ya."

            Misty smiled warmly.  "Well, thank you for that, Ash."

            "You're welcome.  But I still think that it wasn't just me that helped you discover how to play."

            "Sure, whatever," Misty said, nodding. She was firm in her belief that he was a good teacher no matter how modest he was going to be about it.  Thinking about how he had helped her and given up his chance to play was something that strengthened each time it came to her mind, warmed her with a strong sensation of gratefulness.  He didn't have to do this; he didn't have to waste his time working with her.  She wouldn't have been hostile towards him if he hadn't. The whole situation with the teams was completely understandable to her, even as much as she felt it was unfair.  And yet, it was funny the way it turned out, almost as if Ash was secretly becoming part of the team anyway.

As they fell into a serene silence, their eyes came together again, lingering. A pleasant little feeling came over Misty, revealing itself through the amiable look she was giving him.  She stared into his eyes, taking in his expression of pure content.  She inhaled calmly, sighing under her breath.  Something about him today was just stirring something within her.  Seeing how excited he was and how joyous he acted over her accomplishments was not something to disregard.  She had gone from being positively miserable to never happier simply because of him, and for some reason, she got this vibe from Ash as well.

"Ash?" she asked gently.  Resting his face in his hands, his eyebrows rose in reply.   "Um . . . what you did today . . . you know, helping me and all?  I . . . I just wanna say thanks."

Ash nodded affably, not saying a word.  

"I mean, I was so . . . sad and depressed and all, until you showed up," she continued, shrugging as she tried to explain to him this irresistible feeling of thankfulness she was experiencing.   "It's just . . . I know how much you wanted this day to come and how badly you wanted to play, but instead you're here, helping me and totally giving up your opportunities to do that."

He gave her a meek smile, and turned away momentarily, only to look back at her. 

"No big deal."

"Yes it is!" she protested.  "That was some hard thing to do.  And yet, you did it, and . . . and I think that really shows what . . . what a nice person you are, Ash."

She got him there.  Not only was his expression bashful now, he was downright blushing.  He was speechless, and Misty's heart beat with happiness.

"Thanks, Misty," he finally said, a look of genuine gratefulness washing over his face.  "But – but, no, you're looking to much into it! I – I wanted to help you, and it was fun to do that.  I liked seeing you hit all my old friends."

Misty shook her head at his modesty.  "Yeah, but Ash, still! You gave up playing this game and shooting out your own people just to show me how to play! After I had shot that first person, you could have easily left and told me I was fine then.  But you didn't . . . and that was just so great of you."

He laughed, looking down a little embarrassingly.  "But I had to be with you, Misty. You have no idea how much I . . . hated being on that other team, how much I wanted to be with you guys."

As he looked up, he caught sight of Misty gaping at him sympathetically.

"I mean, I promised to help you and all!" he said, tenderly pounding the ground with his fists.  "And besides, I hated hanging out with Gary . . . man, that was . . . _uggh."_

He stuck his tongue out in a disgruntled fashion, inducing a chuckle from Misty.  

"You were hanging out with Gary?" she asked, surprised.  "Why?"

Ash sighed.  "Well . . . he wanted me to for some odd reason, but . . . I guess I didn't think it would be so bad. Like, deep down, I kinda felt that maybe I could have fun with him like old times and try to, I dunno, fix my friendship with him . . . be buddies again."

Misty cocked her head, smiling kindly.  "You miss that, huh?"

Ash was reluctant at first, but then nodded a bit sadly.

"At first," he continued, "it wasn't that bad. But then he just proved that he's just as he is: arrogant and snotty.  He kept criticizing how I wanted to play –"

"You?" Misty intermitted, her tone in high disbelief.  "But you know so much!"

"Well, he didn't think so," Ash scowled.  "He didn't want to have 'fun.' He just wanted to win, and yeah . . . I wanna win, too . . ."

Misty nodded knowingly.  "But, you wanna have fun," she filled in for him.  "I know.  Trust me, I can pretty much picture Gary in my head right now saying this stuff."

"Exactly," Ash moaned.  "And that's why . . . it's funny . . . I went off on my own looking for you guys, thinking I was going to have fun and shoot ya out like you said, but . . . when I saw you, I just . . . totally felt different about it.  I saw you, and I remembered how bad you were at practice, and well . . ."

"You took me as prisoner for good causes," she said.

Blinking, Ash beamed.  "I guess so," he replied.  "But . . . I have to admit, I kinda used that as an excuse to hang out with you."

Misty's eyes rose.  "What?" she exclaimed.

Ash shrugged.   "I figured I had to do that," he chuckled.  "Or else you'd shoot me."

"Ash, even if I'd tried to shoot you, I probably would have missed," Misty said, slightly peeved that she had been had, although she found it pretty funny as well.  "You shouldn't have worried about that."

Giggling, Ash nodded.  "True.  But I thought that was a pretty good tease, though." He winked at her as she gave him a wearied face.  

"So I'm not your prisoner?"

"If you don't wanna be.  I guess not," Ash replied softly.  He would have told her eventually, but he pictured himself doing it way after the game was over that afternoon.  When he wasn't at risk of being at the receiving end of Misty's paintball gun. But seeing her face as it was now, Ash was relieved to realize that that was certainly not the case.  

"Well, that makes me feel a _bit better," Misty remarked kiddingly.  "All this time thinking that I was going to be your final victim . . . or in this case, your __only victim."_

"Oh, stop," Ash laughed.  "I wasn't going to shoot you.  Had no plans of it – unless you _really bugged me. Hehe, no, seriously . . . I wasn't going to."_

"I know."  She slouched and tilted her head compassionately.  "But you should have a victim.  You wanted to do this."

Ash shrugged.  "There's always next year," he said impassively.  He didn't care at all at this point, and it didn't bother him either as much as he would have imagined.  Seeing Misty take down two people under his instruction, and having the pleasure of spending the day with her, wasn't his idea of a wasted day.

"I guess so," Misty breathed softly, looked away and into the woods.  It was so quiet and tranquil, something hard to believe to be the site of a competitive paintball war. 

"Besides," Ash said, breaking the quietness, "who needs a victim to have fun? I had fun."

Misty smirked.  "You didn't have any fun with Gary?"

"Are you kidding?" Ash responded ridiculously, giving her a look. 

"Well, he's like you in a sense – he's determined and wants to play.  I mean, aside from you looking for fun, you're like that, too."

Ash snorted in absurdity.  "Yeah, but I don't go around shooting people in the head," he replied, instantly vexed at the mention of Gary's over-aggressive style of paintballing. 

Misty's eyes shot open in disbelief.  "Gary was shooting people in the head!?"

Ash nodded casually, not shocked with her reaction. 

"But – but you're not supposed to do that!" Misty sputtered.  "Right?"

"Nope," Ash confirmed.  "But he did.  Two people: this one kid and Tracey."

Misty's face scrunched with concern.  "He shot Tracey in the head!?" she asked worriedly.  "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine," Ash replied.  "But he looked like he was going to kill Gary, though.  He shoulda."  

Misty huffed, shifting around to get off her knees and sit down.  She shook her head, thinking about how Gary had broken a rule that even she knew, and deliberately at that, as implied with Ash's tone.  And the fact that poor Tracey was a target of that made her ire grow. 

"I was getting sick of it," Ash said.  "He wouldn't let me shoot either.  I was going to shoot Tracey, but he pushed me out of the way at the last moment and did it himself.  I mean, that was it for me. I – I don't play with people who play like that."

"Well, with my crazy shooting, I may have done that," Misty chuckled.

"Yeah, but at least you wouldn't have done it on purpose," Ash replied.  "I wonder how many other people he shot in the head since I left him? Hehe, I told him I was staking out the area.  Probably doesn't care, though.  He's too busy taking people's heads off to worry about where I went."

Misty was disgusted with what she had heard, to say the least.  She knew Ash exaggerated often about Gary and his ill-mannered personality, but this was something she could see Gary doing.  Ash may exaggerate, but he didn't lie.  With their cold friendship slipping away, and their constant battle to out-do each other, Misty could see Gary overpowering and intimidating Ash, as well as perturbing him. 

"You did the right thing to leave, Ash," Misty told him.  "I think that sucks what he's doing."

Ash rolled his eyes.  "Tell me about it."

Suddenly, Misty grinned prankishly, giving him a nudge.  "Hey, I think we have to get back at Gary for that."

Ash looked up at her.  "Huh?  For shooting people in the head?"

"Yeah," Misty replied. "And not letting you shoot, either.  I can't even imagine what it would feel like if someone didn't let me shoot." She winked, chuckling at the irony of her statement.

Ash caught it as well, and he laughed.  "What do you have in mind, Misty?"

Reaching up to playfully twirl the end of her hair, she stared thoughtfully at the cloud-dotted sky through the towering branches.  "Oh, I dunno," she shrugged.  "I sure would like to shoot him, though."

"Yeah, so would I!" Ash proclaimed.    

Misty's eyes went wide.  "Hey, that's an even better idea!" she cried excitedly, hopping to her feet in an instant.

"What is?" Ash asked, sweatdropping from her sudden outcry.   

Without saying a word, Misty reached over and pulled his gun from his hands, replacing it with hers. A crafty smile curving her lips, she leaned forward, her mouth brushing alongside the baffled boy's helmet-covered ear.

"Just pretend there's a red dot in the center, and you'll do fine."

STAY TUNED FOR THE EXCITING CONCLUSION!

_Um . . . don't have much to say today! Only that I'm really upset because I was going to go to Spruceton tomorrow and now those plans are down the drain. -_- Oh well, at least there's a new Pokémon episode on tomorrow morning!  Whoah-oh! ^__^ And  it'll give me more time to write this weekend, too.  School starts next week (arghness ~_~), but I'm pretty sure you'll see a lot of stuff from me in the near future. ^^  Well, see ya next week! Thankies!!_


	6. Part 6

Love and War By Spruceton Spook Part 6 

             For the next half an hour, Ash and Misty wandered inconspicuously and quietly through the woods and the unbearable, humid heat that encompassed them.  They barely said a word to each other, but both knew what they were looking for and what the plan was.  A smile was all that passed between them as they crept, crawled, and trudged through the bushes and grasses, a sly smile that reflected the devious, clever plan Misty had concocted a short while before.  Ash saw it as brilliant, and he had told her that; he realized and admitted that even he didn't have the mind to strategize like that.   Plus the fact that they were going to attempt to pull it off on Gary made it even juicier. 

            Surprisingly, they had not spotted any other players on their exploration, and Ash assumed that most of the players had already met their fate.  They had been playing for quite a time now, after all.  But it didn't matter to them who they met up with or spotted. They were looking for one person, and one person only, and Ash knew with all certainty that he would have no problem distinguishing Gary from the assortment of Pallet Town paintballers.

            Ash was practically on his toes as they traveled, the anticipation of finding Gary and going through with the ingenious plan running through his blood. It was perfect and infallible – or so he believed.  He fully had faith that Gary was still active in the game, since the other years he had played he turned out to be one of the last players standing.  He was never ultimately the last, but from what Ash heard and knew, he was always heading back to camp a heck of a lot closer to the end of the game than to the beginning.  He was just naturally good at it – or lucky – but not this year.  Ash beamed deviously.

            "I hope he's still in," he said, despite the inner belief he possessed.  The painstaking waiting was killing him.

            "Yeah, me too," Misty agreed.  She was walking directly beside him as opposed the trailing she had done previously.  She grinned excitedly.  "This is gonna be so good."

            Ash sighed pleasantly.  "I know," he said, gripping the gun filled with yellow paintballs tightly in his hands.  He could almost envision the moment in his mind, the complete perfection and execution of Misty's plan, the look of pure shock washing over Gary's face, the face of undeniable snooty pride Ash would shoot at him.  Who cared if he was trying to keep the hostility down? At that point, all he realized he wanted was for Gary to be shot out of the game, and no one was better to do the job than himself.

            "You think he'll fall for it, though?" Misty asked a bit suspiciously, giving him uncertain eyes.  They approached a fallen log and crouched behind it for a pause.

            "Oh, sure," Ash nodded confidently.  "Misty, this plan is so good, it's unbelievable! It's like perfectly created for Gary."

            Misty leaned her head against the log, shutting her eyes for a second.  "I guess.  I'm just afraid he's going to take a shot at me as soon as he sees me."

            "He won't do that," Ash assured her. "Besides, you'll be the second one to make the appearance, remember?"

            Misty smiled, lifted her head and pulling at her chin strap.  "Yeah, I remember.  I just hope we find him soon so that we can finish up.  This outfit is really starting to bug me now."

            Ash nodded and stood, holding out his hand to hoist her up.  She groaned slightly as she rose, shaking her head at herself.  Although the day had not really been that long, she was considerably pooped. 

            "Now then," Ash said, scratching his chin as he looked about, "where could he be?"

            "Could you imagine if he was following us this whole time, watching everything we did?" Misty asked, grinning.

            Ash gave her a considerably fearful look.  "Oh my God, don't even talk like that."

            Laughing, Misty gave him a shove and they set forth again.  They were way into Misty's territory now, imagining Gary to be preying on the players there. Misty, unlike Ash, was more worried that Gary was already out of the game, and that they were chasing nothing.  But Ash seemed to have confidence, and she wasn't ready to challenge that.  Besides, this plan was _too good . . . and Gary being out of the game was not a way of failure that Misty was ready to accept._

            This time, she found herself going ahead of Ash, taking control of their path. She felt calmer than she had earlier, and a surge of adventure pressed her to move on.  Ash, in the meantime, watched her as she walked, practically in awe with how much she changed. He still couldn't get over it.  And now with the idea of hers that he couldn't see any more flawless, he was more than impressed.  He was mesmerized.

            _I'm so glad I ran into her, he sighed happily to himself, astonished with his luck.  __God, I'm so glad I ran into her . . ._

_            Ash took a deep breath of the heavy air, shaking his head contentedly.  He was in high hopes – impossibly radiant high hopes.  Everything else had fallen into place, and therefore everything else was going to happen to his advantage.  He felt it in his bones. _

_I had so fun with her today, he found himself realizing, still paying more attention to her than to the surroundings that he should have been heeding.  It was puzzling, he had to admit.  He had lots of fun with Misty, but never before did he enjoy this kind of bonding without the presence of Brock.  Usually, the fun they both created was molded by Brock's input as well; with Ash and Misty, eventually it turned into war.  Somewhere along the line, one comment was taken the wrong way, one simple disagreement turned into a full-out physical argument.  But not today . . . today was something totally different, and Ash couldn't help but look upon it fondly. _

_I . . . I really__ had fun with her.  He found it remarkable how much this hit him, how much it intrigued him.  Looking at her now, as her head swung back and forth tentatively in search of Gary, one thought shot to his mind._

_I don't want this day to end. _

Suddenly, as they sauntered sneakily into a rather dense patch of wooded area adjacent to the preserve's mowed field, a chill ran up his spine, pulling him abruptly from his pleasant, longing thoughts.  He immediately halted, his head raised alertly.  Misty had not noticed, and before she could wander off any more, he reached out and grabbed hold of her extra-large shirt, yanking her to a halt.

            "What's the big idea?" she barked, instantly met with a very cautious looking pair of eyes.  Ash put a finger to his lips and promptly fell to his knees, motioning for her to do the same. 

            As she dropped beside him, her face full of worry and surprise, Ash gazed at her for a moment.  He was looking at her while he listened, watching her face wrinkle into anxious curiosity as he prolonged his silence.

            "Ash–?"

            "Shh!" he finally said, startling her.  He smiled to calm her, his teeth glistening.  "Someone's near."

            Misty was immediately thrilled.  "Really? Is it Gary?"

            "I don't know," Ash said, though he truly believed that it was Gary who he was sensing the presence of.  "Maybe."

            "Oooh, I hope!" Misty gibbered, clutching her fists excitedly.  "This is our chance!  We're gonna do it!"

            "Shhh!" Ash shushed her again, giving her a warning glance.  She cowered sheepishly and complied with a nod, smiling softly.  "I'm gonna go check and see, okay? Stay down."

            Misty tensed eagerly, a broad smile sweeping across her face.  Hugging Ash's gun close to her chest, she gave him a small thumbs-up, encouraging him on with a quick rise of her eyes.  

            "Be careful," she cooed.

            Ash grinned and winked at her, gave her one more admirable look, and got to his feet.  The woods were suddenly a lot quieter and a lot more mysterious, all the more convincing Ash there was someone slinking around nearby.  He hoped and prayed that he wasn't setting himself up for disaster, that there wasn't someone from the Vistor's team watching him get up and look about.  Even if they did attack, he was defenseless – he was carrying a gun filled with yellow paintballs, after all. 

            Trembling slightly, Ash stayed low behind the shrubbery, his eyes keen. Not daring to move a muscle, he just stayed where he was, observing the scene.  He froze and allowed his senses to do their job.  Hopefully, whoever this was that was making his nerves go haywire would show himself soon, and by luck, it would be Gary.  

            "C'mon now," Ash whispered, a sweat breaking on his brow.  "I know it's you, Gary.  Come on out."

            A rustling of bushes was heard, and Ash's head darted to the source.  His heart stopped and his muscles clenched in worry. He barely had a moment to pause and realized what was happening before he heard a gun pop, and suddenly Ash felt a tremendously sharp pang attack his shoulder, causing him to leap back. 

            _Oh my God, oh no . . . ! was all Ash could think as he felt the impact on his shoulder throb, fearing the worst – he was shot. In a matter of seconds, everything fell apart, and he shivered frantically, his heart beating insanely.  His head twisted rapidly to the source of his dismaying discomfort, he sagged as his eyes fell upon the sight of the pink paint clashing against his green attire, confirming dreadfully – _

            _Wait a second! Ash thought, doing a double take.  Pink paint? __Pink!? His eyes widened as he stared at it, the most overwhelming feeling of relief and luckiness he'd ever experienced slowly taking hold of him.  His heart was raging, but it was finally beginning to calm as he took deep breaths._

            "_All right!"_

            Ash immediately perked.  He knew that voice – _too well. A camouflaged figure hopped from behind the bush from where Ash had heard the rustling, thrusting his arms into the air.  Sure enough, Ash found himself looking straight into the face of his rival._

            "Hey, what's the big idea?" he spat right away, shrugging almost angrily at a very shocked Gary before him.  "What are you doing shooting at _me for?"_

            Gary's eyes rose incredulously.  "Ash!?" he gasped, emerging slowly from the bushes. "Wha – wha . . . what are you _doing?"_

            "What do you mean what am I doing?" Ash retorted, gesturing to the pink splatter on his shirt.  "Why'd you go and shoot at me for?"

            Gary came up to him, looking at him skeptically as he couldn't still grasp that it was Ash in front of him.  As the shock wore off, he slumped his shoulders, and rolled his eyes.

            "I'm sorry," he said a bit bitterly.  "I thought you were someone from the other team. Where the hell's your ribbon?"

            "I didn't have one – well, not a _pink one," Ash responded wearily, reaching up to pull at his shirt.  The area where the paintball had struck him was kind of numb, but not painful.  It was still an odd sensation, one that was bound to get irritating if it happened more than once._

            Gary shook his head.  "Just great, Ash," he mumbled.  "Just where the hell were you? What were you doing this whole time?"

            Ash sweatdropped, having not expected to answer this question so soon.  "W-well . . . yea-yeah," he stuttered, finding his words, "I was . . . I was staking out the area." He ended firmly, crossing his arms. 

            "Yeah, you said that over two hours ago," replied Gary exasperatedly.  "What did you do, get lost or something? I wasted so much time looking for you!"

            Ash growled under his breath at him, clutching Misty's gun in his sweaty palms.  _No, no, Ash, he told himself.  __Don't do it, calm down . . ._

_            "I didn't get lost," he answered, narrowing his eyes.  Seeing Gary before him and the recollection of what had happened in the first half-hour of play (which, to Ash, felt like years ago) made his vexation flare.  He wanted desperately to shoot the gun at him now, but he couldn't . . . Misty had to be there.  Suddenly, the realization that Misty was still sitting behind the bush made him perk, and a mischievous chill ran through him._

            "But I did happen to pick someone up along the way," he smiled, drawing Gary's attention.

            "Really?" he replied excitedly.  Giving him a fiendish look, Ash spun around and dashed over to the bushes where Misty was hiding.  

            Misty stared up silently as he approached, her eyes falling to his "wounded" shoulder.  

            "You okay?" she whispered.  She had witnessed the entire ordeal, feeling her own body shake with extreme trepidation when she saw Ash get shot.  She couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if Ash was gone, what she would do all by herself.  And yet, the pink paint stood out like an eyesore, relieving Misty almost more than it had Ash himself. 

            "Of course," Ash whispered back, his voice cracking with excitement.  He winked at her, squeezing her hand extra tightly as he pulled her up.  Catching his cunning little look, Misty smirked secretly, her eyes flickering momentarily at Gary.  The plan was afoot.

            As soon as Misty was to her feet, Ash stuck his gun into her, as planned, and escorted her out of the shrubbery by her hand.  As much as she desired to clasp his hand as strongly as she could, Misty restrained, and their hands entwined loosely as though it was an awkward and unfriendly compromise. She dragged her feet behind her as Ash led her towards Gary in a stubborn manner.  It was fun to act this out.

            Gary looked undoubtedly pleased as he watched Ash pull her reluctantly forward.  "All right!" he said, nodding to Ash approvingly. "Good job, Ash!  How long you've been tagging her around?"

            Ash smirked.  "Oh, not long," he lied, sneering at her.  Misty shot daggers at him with her eyes, their acting superb.  To make it even more dramatic, she viciously attempted to tear her hand away, but Ash gripped it fiercely . . . exactly what Misty wanted.

            "I, uh . . . I went around shooting some of her teammates while I carted her around," he bragged.  "Right, Misty?"

            For Misty, it was a horrible struggle to keep her laughs within her.  She realized looking at Ash was making things harder, so she snubbed him coldly, turning the other way.  "Whatever," she hissed. 

            Gary chuckled.  "Wow, Ash, you were _that cruel to her? Heh, you guys must really love torturing each other.  That's rough!"_

            Ash nodded, letting go of her hand and sweeping his arm around her waist, yanking her abruptly towards himself.  "I know," he replied, giving her a sassy look.  Having grown a bit, the two were now nearing the same height, and the pull had brought Misty's face right to his.  Their face-shields clipped together, and Ash stared her down, a mocking smile spreading from ear to ear.  Misty just bit her lip, trying to hold in both her smile and her blush as their bodies came together, Ash's hot breath blowing on her neck and his arm embracing her waist firmly but gently.

            Gary was still smiling, shaking his head as he watched the act play before him unknowingly.  "Believe it or not, Ash, she may very well be the last player from her team. We took out most of them."

            "Huh?" Ash asked, turning to him in surprise.  "Really?"

            "I think so," Gary nodded.  "I haven't seen many others lately, and I know a lot have been sent back already. Hehe, which of course means we might win the game when we take her out.  When were you planning on doing that?"

            "Hmmm," Ash wondered, glancing at a very "irked" Misty, "I don't know.  Figured I was going to save the best for last, but I suppose that's now, isn't it?"

            Just for fun, Misty growled at him.

            Gary was literally thrilled, getting a tremendous kick out of the display. This was just the type of competition he loved, not to mention seeing Ash taunt Misty mercilessly.  Coincidentally, he had actually been keeping an eye out for Misty throughout the game, figuring she would be an easy target, but now that Ash had a hold of her, he realized this was even better.

            "So, whaddah ya say, Ash?" Gary said, smirking at Misty.  Misty glared at him, only this time it was real.  She was sticking her tongue out at him from the inside, unable to contain her excitement over what was to happen.  "Wanna end this game now and walk back to camp victors?             Go on, do it!"

            A laugh fought its way up Ash's throat, but he choked it down.  He bit his tongue viciously to keep it from emerging.  As Gary voiced his aggressive encouragement, Ash gave Misty a quick little squeeze as a cue, causing her to slightly squirm from the tickle.  She clenched down on her teeth as she held back her smile, reaching over and tugging Ash's shirt in response, hidden from Gary's eyes naturally. 

            "Alrighty, then!" Ash proclaimed, releasing Misty and stepped away from her.  Misty was jealous of him smiling the way he was.  She wanted so badly to smile, but she kept to task.  She couldn't screw it up now with one stupid slip.

            Ash hopped around on his toes, holding the gun loosely in his hands.  He cracked his neck back and forth and swung each of his arms around separately, preparing for the kill.  Misty cocked her head tiredly.

            "Hey, she's getting fed up," Gary said, motioning towards her.  "Keepin' her in so much horrible suspense."

            _Hehe, you wish, Ash thought, lifting his eyes at Misty. He was in suspense, however.  So was Misty, and she was indeed getting fed up . . . she couldn't wait to see when Ash would spring around and turn on Gary.  She was as clueless as to what he was thinking as Gary was._

            Ash didn't want to wait any longer.  Looking as though he was planting his feet firmly on the ground, he was really ready to jump in an instant.  He faced Misty, the gun hanging down.  Slowly and dangerously, he lifted it.  Misty's face lit up in a brilliant look of sincere fear, and Gary's grin spread.  His heart pumping intensely, Ash smiled at Misty – a zany, crazed smile.

            In the matter of a split second, he spun around, raising his gun in a flash.  He took one moment to look at Gary's indisputably confused look before he shot twice, blasting two yellow paintballs directly at him.  They struck his shoulder in succession, inducing him to reel back.  His confused face was immediately changed to one of shock and disgust, his jaw dropping. 

            "_Hey!" he cried, nearly stumbling. His eyes went wide as he looked down to see the yellow paint gleaming off his shirt.  "What the hell's the big idea!? What are you doing!?"_

            Ash and Misty couldn't hold back any longer.  They started to laugh hysterically, the uproar resounding loudly and boisterously throughout the calm setting.  For Misty, it was the sweetest relief, and she nearly doubled over at the sight of Gary, aghast and dumbfounded.

            Ash didn't reply to Gary's enraged cry, simply succumbing to his hearty hysterics.  Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he watched his rival, practically rendered speechless in surprise, hold his arms out helplessly and defeatedly, not knowing what had happened or what to do.  Actually, he did know of one thing to do – give Ash the dirtiest look he could humanely produce.  He regained his words rather quickly.

            "Ash! What is this – why did you _do that!?" he spat angrily._

            Misty collided into Ash, her face reddened, and grabbed his arm elatedly.  Yanking it, she nearly pulled him over as the two roared in laughter.  Grasping her arm back excitedly, Ash smirked at Gary.

            "Oh, I dunno," he managed to say.  "Just helping out my _real team."_

            "R-real team?" Gary huffed, baffled.  "What are you talking about? You're on the Pallet Town team, you moron!"

            Ash shrugged, "Maybe. But I decided I didn't like that team that much.  This one's a lot more fun!"

            He wrinkled his nose in slight distaste, though a joyous, delirious smile was still plastered on his face.  He and Misty held onto each other as they continued to laugh, hardly appearing to let up.  Gary could feel his blood pressure raising, his body heating up in rage. There was no way he was going to accept this, just allow this to happen.

            "You can't just change teams, though!" he yelled.  "You're a traitor, that's all you are!  A _traitor!"        _

            Ash and Misty just bawled, holding onto each other for support, their hands flying to their mouths to desperately stifle their laughter and catch their breaths. 

            "You can't shoot me!" Gary went on furiously.  "That's cheating, that's being a traitor!"  When they refused to respond a second time, Gary ground his teeth in a miserable frown.  "Well, it doesn't matter anyway, _Ash!  You lost the game anyway! You ruined it for everyone, and you're a __loser!"_

            Ash's eyes rose at that comment, and finally, he settled down to stare at him. Still giggling happily, Misty calmed with him, looking up into his face to see what he would say.  Gary was livid, but she was certain Ash wasn't faltering from his words one bit.

            "I didn't ruin the game for everyone," Ash said, his voice rather perky.  "Me 'n' Misty sure had fun, didn't we?"

            "Sure did!" Misty replied, hopping up and down and punching his arms giddily.  She glanced at Gary.  "Didn't ruin the game for me!"

            Gary narrowed his eyes at her, snarling under his breath.  "Oh, yeah?" he grumbled, fists tightening.  "Well, then I'm just gonna shoot _you, that's what I'm gonna do!  Then __I'll have fun!"_

            Misty's eyes widened as he said this, her laughter coming to a screeching halt as Gary pointed his gun in her direction.  She yelped, twisting Ash around so that he was facing the gun rather than her.

            "Don't you even dare, Gary!" Ash warned, his jovial expression turned rigid and sour. 

            "What's stopping me?" Gary shrugged, maneuvering around to get a clear view of Misty.   He could see her grabbing hold of Ash's shirt desperately, shying away from him as he approached and throwing Ash constantly into his path.

            "Well, for one thing, you're already shot out!" Ash pointed out.  "You're not allowed to shoot anyone after you're out, and even if you do, it doesn't count!"

            "Yeah, and like what _you did counted?" Gary snorted.  "At least I'm not a traitor and shooting my former teammates!"_

            Ash frowned at him.  "I'm not a traitor," he replied haughtily, reaching around to usher Misty protectively behind him.  "I never wanted to be on the Pallet Town team, and just because I'm a Pallet Towner doesn't mean I have to be on it.  I have a right to be on whatever team I choose, and I chose to be with my best friend!"

            "Whatever," Gary responded harshly.  "But I'm still gonna shoot her! After they hear what you did, my shot will be legitimate, and since you've decided you wanted to be on the Visitors' side, I guess that means that my shot on you _also counted, hmmm?  Which means that – wow! – I'm the winner! Look at that!"_

            He began to laugh as Ash and Misty's faces fell, their trick suddenly turning against them.  Ash could feel his body freeze nervously as he watched Gary's tongue flop out of his mouth competitively, inching his way towards Misty with a devious glint in his eye.

            Gary had him there . . . who was Ash fooling anyway? Sure, Gary was shot out by Ash and the opposing color, which would count if Ash had decided to join the Visitors' team. However, if he had done that, then the pink paint on him also indicated that he himself was officially out of the game, as well.  He suddenly became confused, not knowing what to do or even how to think properly.  He was just worried about Misty.

            _Think, Ash! he told himself as he put himself before Misty, glaring down at Gary as he prowled around them, hungrily stalking Misty and waiting for the perfect opportunity to take her out.  No, he wasn't going to allow that. Whether it counted or not (and he knew that it technically did not count), he didn't need Misty to get shot. Especially by Gary – the one who aimed for the head. What if he aimed for Misty's head? What if that was just his way of sickening fun? What if . . . Misty got hurt for no reason?_

            Ash bit down hard on his lip, thinking desperately.  He needed to act fast, he needed to solve this before Gary went and did his damage.

            _But what? Ash thought, wracking his brain.  __How can I . . . what can I do . . . ?_

            Suddenly, the idea sprung to his head.  It hit him like one of Pikachu's thunderbolts, sending a shock of spontaneity through his body.  In a flash, he flipped around to Misty, shoving his gun back into the startled girl's hands.  Her other gun fell to the ground as a result of the forceful action. 

            "Quick, Misty! Shoot me!" he ordered. 

            "Wh-wha?" Misty stuttered, shocked.

            "Huh?" Gary gasped, startled.

            "Do it, Misty! _NOW!" _

            Misty had no idea what Ash meant, but the fire of demand in his eyes took over her.  She grasped the gun in her hands as Ash leapt away from her, and without a second thought aimed and shot.  Gary, frozen in surprise, could only watch with wide eyes.  Right on target, the yellow paint exploded on Ash's arm.

            The gun fell from Misty's hands, and her jaw dropped.  

            _Oh my God, she thought.  __I can't believe I did that . . ._

            Ash had his eyes shut from the impact, which was still not bad but stung a bit more than the shoulder hit. He opened one eye to look down at the yellow paint, and slowly but surely, a smile pulled at his lips.  Misty saw the smile, and gradually, his spur of the moment plan made sense to her. Only she still couldn't believe it.

            Gary stood motionless, looking at Ash with a pale face. As Ash lifted his head, he first looked at Misty, grinned at her, then turned his attention to Gary.

            "Well, I guess no matter what way you look at it," he said, "I'm out. And so are you.  Which means . . . that Misty wins the game."

            Misty's jaw fell even further, but now her lips were curving upwards to an incredulous grin.

            _I . . . won?_

            "No! NO!" Gary disputed, waving his arms around frenetically.  "That's ridiculous!"

            "Why?" Ash hastily questioned. "Look at us.  I have paint on me, you have paint on you . . . Misty doesn't . . ." He cocked his eyebrows.  

            "But it is!" Gary raged. "I mean, you come along . . . and then with the whole gun switching and the treason, and – and the . . . and then the . . ." Suddenly, he stamped his foot, groaning loudly in annoyance.  "You know something? I don't even want to deal with this anymore! You two are both losers! You and your loser girlfriend! Two big, _cheating losers!"_

            "You forgot tricky," Misty beamed.

            Gary fumed, throwing one more burning glare at each of them.  "I just – _forget it! Forget it!  I – I don't even __care anymore!  I don't give a damn dealing with you losers!  Play the game and cheat however the hell you want!"_

            Ash and Misty didn't say a word as Gary stormed off, slightly surprised. They watched him march off into the woods, heading back to camp in a rut.  They could practically see steam shooting from his ears, he was so mad.  

As he faded away into the green distance, their heads simultaneously turned to one another.  Ash and Misty's eyes locked, and without another second passing, their smiles spread as far as they could go across their ecstatic faces, their teeth gleaming blissfully.

"Haha!" Misty screamed, thrusting her fists into the air and letting out a whoop. "We did it!"

She rushed towards Ash, her arms extended victoriously, and Ash welcomed her with the same.  Misty crashed into his arms, and they hugged jubilantly, hopping up and down vigorously as their excitement went into over-drive.

"I can't believe it!" Misty hollered.  "That was great!"

"I know!" Ash agreed excitedly.  "I know!"

They bounced around some more, their embrace tightening.  As they calmed, Ash gently pried her away, beaming radiantly into her face.  

"How's it feel to win, Misty?" he laughed.  

In all the action, Misty had almost forgot what Ash made her do.  She looked down at his paint-splashed shirt, the pink and yellow still wet and sticky.  It was certainly something she didn't think she'd see in the course of the game.  And the fact that the yellow paint was hers was something she was having difficulty grasping. 

"I can't believe it," she responded, whispering.  "I can't believe you made me do that."

Ash shrugged impassively.  "I had to. I wanted you to win."

Misty just smiled, exchanging her thoughtful gaze from his face to his shirt.  "But . . . but you lost the game," she said, her voice conveying compassion for him and shock. 

"Yeah, but you won!" he replied, grinning all the more.  He chuckled happily.  "That's even better!  You won, Misty! _You!  That's, like, the comeback of the century!"_

A giggle escaped Misty's throat.  That statement seemed so surreal to her, but she loved the sound of it; she couldn't dispute that.  Still, just as he had done throughout the game, Ash's actions blew her away.  She honestly didn't understand what was going on in his mind . . . he had placed all concern and consideration on her, not caring one bit what happened to him.  Sacrificing himself so that she would win the game – be the last standing! – in her first try, an overwhelming upset victory, so to speak, was the icing on the cake, however.

"Ash, I –" she started, her mouth hanging open as she tried to form her words.  She was speechless, and seeing this made Ash beam.  She was happy, incredibly happy . . . a bit of that was shock, as well, but it was starting to settle within her. Her eyes darted about, but soon they fixated on him, glistening with appreciation.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted finally, shrugging defeatedly.  "This day . . . it's just been so perfect. I mean, first you helping me, and now _this . . ."_

"Oh, Misty, would you stop with that already?" Ash begged, giving her a silly smile. "The day was perfect, you're right.  But it was perfect for me, too.  I had fun showing you what to do, and shooting Gary was a blast, and sacrificing myself to see you win! That stuff was great! I had the time of my life today! I . . . I loved hanging out with you today."

His voice lowered gently, and his smile softened.  Misty's smile strengthened, as she blinked contentedly.

"I loved hanging out with you, too," she murmured.  

They were looking at each other, but only then did their eyes fully lock. Their smiles were not fading in the least, but suddenly they were quivering almost nervously. 

Ash took a deep breath, feeling his face heat as her eyes blazed into his.  "I – I don't want you to think that all I did today was just because I felt sorry for you, or that I felt that I _needed to do it. I did it because . . . because . . . I wanted to. 'Cause . . ."_

Misty leaned forward interestedly as he struggled to find what he wanted to say as perfectly as he could, tilting her head.  Her eyes and face were calm, but her body was shivering.  She fought the urge to finish his sentence, fill in his words.

"'Cause . . . I do like being with you," he finished.  "You have no idea how excited I was before to think about how I was going to hang out with you for the whole game.  I was s-so excited, and that thing with the teams . . . I felt like the day was ruined.  Because I just knew that . . . this was going to be something that we could both have fun with."

He paused for a moment, literally catching his breath.  "I like having fun with you, Misty." He spread his smile timidly.  "You're a really fun person to be with, ya know that?"

Her body heating, Misty clutched Ash's shirt in her hands.  Instinctively, her smile grew, both out of excitement and true humility.  His words were so simple, yet so perfect.  She wanted to respond just as perfectly, but it was hard.  Her mind was a mess, her body likewise as her heart began to race and her stomach fluttered. 

"You're fun, too, Ash," she replied.  "Actually, you made this game fun.  It would've stunk otherwise."

They both chuckled, the tension lifting for a second.  But it returned just as strongly as they fell into silence again.  Gazing at each other, their blood began to rush.  It wasn't, of course, the first time this had ever occurred. It never failed to cause them to tremble, being an uncomfortable feeling, a confusing, awkward one.  And yet, it made them feel wonderful just as much. 

"Thanks, Misty," Ash said, hoping that maybe talking would help him calm his nerves.  It wasn't helping entirely, but as he spoke with gentle sincerity to her, letting her know how he felt, it seemed to be getting easier.   "I just . . . hehe, I just hope I wasn't that much of a pain in the neck."

Misty's jaw dropped slightly.  "A pain in the neck!?" she chortled incredulously.  For the first time, Ash did say something wrong, completely false.  She knew he was probably kidding, but she wasn't going to even let him believe a bit of that for a second.  "You're joking, right?"

Laughing, Ash shrugged.  Misty watched him as he ducked his head, fidgeting with his face-shield.  "I dunno . . ."

"Ash, you were anything _but!" she exclaimed gently, barely lifting her voice.  "Seriously, I . . . I don't think I ever had more fun with you before."_

"Really? Nah, there musta been something else –"

"No, no," she interrupted him, tugging on his sleeves. "I mean, yeah, we had fun lots of times.  I can't even begin to list the great times we had together." She laughed gently and shortly.  "But today was different. Today . . . it was just you and me. It . . . it's never really you and me, is it?"

Scrunching his face, Ash shrugged.  "Not really."

Misty looked down.  "You know, when you took me prisoner today, I honestly thought that you were doing it . . . well, not to be mean, but you know, to mess with me.  Make me angry."

"Nope," Ash shook his head.

"I never thought, though," she went on, "that it would be one of the best times I ever had with you."  She smiled longingly.  "I just . . . I just wish this day wouldn't end."

_Me neither . . . Ash thought, a rush of pleasure running through him as her wish matched his.  Misty, at the same time, was breathing uneasily but unnoticeably, finding it rather difficult to explain to him just how wonderful she felt as simply as she could.  Some things couldn't be put to words, and the whole day and how she felt up to this point was one of those things._

Misty chuckled shakily, feeling chills run through her.  Mixing with her heavy outfit, which was suddenly heating up more than it had the entire day, her head began to float. The lack of response from Ash, except for the gentle smile etched into his face, was just making her more nervous.  She felt surrounded by this heat; this uncomfortable hotness that was somehow pressing her on, encouraging her. 

She looked at him, scrutinizing his dark eyes, staring back at her.  Blinking once and long, she pulled at his sleeves.

"You were my hero today, you know," she told him, watching him pull his head back slightly in surprise.

"Your hero? Yeah, right!"

"No, you were," Misty contradicted quietly.  "You did so much for me today, it was like you were my hero." As the word passed through her lips, she trembled.  

Ash blushed lightly, and reached behind to scratch the back of his head.  "Well, I dunno if that makes me a _hero."  He ducked his head, grinning._

Misty didn't reply.  With a jittery hand, she pushed her face-shield up, exposing her crystal-clear blue eyes.  She then unclipped her neck strap and pulled the entire helmet off.  Her gleaming hair, albeit weighed-down from the helmet, blew in the soft, warm breezes.   

Their gaze never leaving each other, Ash watched her, then went to undo his own helmet.  For some reason, he found that his desire to rid his hot, sticky head of the confines wasn't the only thing making him do it.  He pulled it off slowly as Misty had, letting it drop to his side.

He couldn't keep in his apprehensive chuckle and smile as they looked at each other, almost in an entire new retrospective without their headgear. 

"Well, maybe you don't think that necessarily makes you a hero," she finally said, wiping some strands of her ginger hair away from her sweaty, glistening forehead.  "But I do.  A hero comes to someone in their time of need . . . and I really needed you today."

Her voice was low and grateful, warm as the afternoon sun. It floated to Ash's ears, making him slacken enjoyably.  _A hero . . . he thought._

"So," he wondered, smiling timidly, "that makes you . . . the damsel in distress?"

Misty giggled, looking away.  "I guess so," she replied perkily. Her laughter lightened as she stared into his face again, feeling another jolt wrack her body.   To laugh was her initial reaction – her mind reacted all too differently.  The trembling in her muscles heightened, intensified.

Swallowing uneasily, his smile working his way through her body and straight to her heart, she braced.  "I wish . . . I just wished there was a way I could thank you for today," she said, moving closer to him.  "After all . . . isn't the damsel supposed to thank the hero after he saves her?"

Ash sweatdropped and grinned.  "Misty, it's just a paintball game!" he said silently. 

"I doesn't matter," Misty replied, her voice falling into a whisper.  She squeezed into him, their noses just inches apart. "You were super sweet today, Ash Ketchum." Her stomach flopped.  "You were my hero . . ."

Clutching her fists and her toes, she felt her heart accelerate rapidly as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. She shut her eyes and felt her lips overheat on contact, pulling them away quickly but tenderly.  She bit down on her lower lip as she leaned back, feeling a gasp for breath cry from her lungs.

_Oh, wow, oh wow, was all she could think as she turned her head away, keeping her eyes from Ash.  She was too nervous to look at him, to see his reaction.  At the same time, her body went crazy, blissful, excited shivers cascading through her and her heart racing.  Slowly, her eyes lifted to Ash's, and a gentle, crooked smirk flew across her face._

"Thanks, Ash," she whispered. "Thanks for the best day I've had in a long time."

Though he was indeed shocked from her action, Ash couldn't keep his smile away.  It overpowered any other response within him – that, and the instant rush of heat to his face. He could still feel her breath on his face, her body brush against his.  He was scared, overwhelmed . . . and amazed.  The sensation of her lips – the short time they had been there, nevertheless – never left his cheek, and the more he strove to feel it, the more he became excited.

  "You're welcome," he said in reply, a faint blush streaking across his nose. He cleared his throat as his voice cracked. Suddenly, his surroundings vanished; the trees and bushes were gone, the heat became obsolete.  In that moment, all he saw was her. "But . . . but the hero also has to thank the damsel, too."

Misty cocked her head. "Huh?"

Ash shrugged, biting down on his lip.  "The hero has to thank the damsel for a great day.  Because . . . heh, this is the best day I had in a while, too."

Misty froze and braced, her heart taking a leap as Ash leaned in, pressing his lips to her own.  She clenched her eyes shut tightly, trying to settle into the fact that he was kissing her.  She hadn't expected this at all, and the shock of it lingered as their lips remained locked.  Ash wasn't pulling away, and even as awkward as it was, Misty had no intentions of doing it either.  

_I can't believe he's doing this, she thought, reaching up to tug at the sides of his shirt. __I can't believe we're __doing this . . ._

The awkwardness was wearing off, and Ash and Misty's bodies gradually loosened.  The kiss was loose and gentle; a mere peck that endured.  As weird and crazy as it was, after just a few seconds, neither could believe how extraordinary it truly felt. 

Ash was the first to break it, languidly detaching his lips from her soft ones.  Their wavering eyes attracted each other yet again, blazing with fervor and awe.  Sharing a quivering, coquettish grin, they chuckled nervously. 

"Oh, man," Ash mumbled, covering his face with his hands. 

"Yeah, I know," Misty agreed, absentmindedly brushing off her clothes as they stepped away slightly from each other. 

Looking at each other once again, they began to laugh, their faces equally reddened.

 Ash took a deep breath.  "Well, that was some thanks."

Misty smiled pleasantly.  "Meant every bit of it, though."

"Me, too," Ash replied a few seconds later, throwing her a delicate gaze.  "This really has been an eventful day, huh?"

Spinning around energetically and scooping up her gun and helmet, Misty gave him a toothy smile.  "Sure has," she replied, popping the helmet on her head.  She motioned towards his, winking.  "Better put that on before your mom sees.  Gotta head back to camp."

Chuckling, Ash put his helmet on.  They stared at each for a moment before Misty extended her hand, wiggling her fingers invitingly.

"C'mon, hero," she said, nodding her head for him to follow.

Beaming, Ash jumped forward and grasped her hand, squeezing her fingers.  "Sure thing, prisoner."

As they started the triumphant walk back to the preserve, where congratulations, friends, and good food awaited them, Ash and Misty were quiet, their heads lifting and taking in the final sights of their adventure.  Their arms swung back and forth, their fingers opening and closing as they entwined.  Thoughts of the day – and the final moments, mostly – plagued their minds, washing them over with feelings of rapture and delight. 

"You know something, Ash?" Misty asked him as the edge of the forest loomed before them.  She rested her head on his shoulder, taking a deep, blissful breath of the fresh country air.

"What's that, Misty?"

            "I can't wait for next year's paintball game," she answered.

            Ash giggled, letting go of her hand and reaching around to embrace her waist. Pulling her closely to him, letting his helmeted head rest atop hers, the reality of the day's outcome took hold of him again.  It couldn't have been more perfect.

            "Neither can I," he said, hugging her softly. _But who cares about the paintball?_

THE END

_There you have it, guys! Hope you enjoyed my little paintballing tale as much as I loved writing it! ^__^ My first story that Ash and Misty have kissed in, and I must say, it was immensely fun to do! Hehe! ^^_

_Thanks for all your reviews—they make my Fridays extra bright! Stay tuned for another story from me in the near future! I'll be back!  Thanks guys!!!_

_                                                                                                                                    ~Spook_

_P.S. to Llyxius—thanks for giving me the opportunity to write this very challenging fic! Now all I need is someone to challenge me to actually go out and _play_ paintball for real! ^__^ _**__**


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